


The Book Dragon

by Queenjulie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy Realism, Gen, New York, New York Public Library - Freeform, YA, dragon - Freeform, young adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 46,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenjulie/pseuds/Queenjulie
Summary: A 12-year-old girl moves to New York with her parents after the death of her younger brother. Lonely and unhappy with her new home, she wanders around the New York Public Library. In the basement, she discovers something amazing: The Book Dragon. Work is complete. 50K words.
Comments: 27
Kudos: 7





	1. The Greatest Library in the World

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original novel that I decided should see something other than the dust bunnies under my bed. I've loved Ao3 for years, but have never contributed to it before. I worked as a book editor for over a decade before deciding that traditional publishing was a nightmare and leaving it for medicine, but I never lost my love of writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original novel that I decided should see something other than the dust bunnies under my bed. I've loved Ao3 for years, but have never contributed to it before. I worked as a book editor for over a decade before deciding that traditional publishing was a nightmare and leaving it for medicine, but I never lost my love of writing.

The Royal Library at Alexandria was the greatest library in the world, but the greatest thing in it was not a book--it was a dragon. The library had dozens of buildings: six lecture halls, three science labs, and even a zoo; everyone came to see the giraffes, ostriches, and strange, huge snakes called boas that were big enough to swallow a child. But the book dragon was not just some animal to live in a cage and be gawked at by tourists--no, he didn’t live in the zoo. He lived in the library, and he was very, very happy.  
  
The book dragon peeked out from behind the stack of scrolls that had just arrived from Cairo. He’d watched from around a corner as the librarians carefully stacked them in the Acquisitions Room before locking up for the night. The librarians were terribly proud to have the world’s only book dragon living in their library, but he knew they were also a bit scared of him, so he waited until they went home for the night to come out and read his beautiful books. He glanced around, peering out the Acquisitions Room door to make sure the Reading Room was empty. All the philosophers and scientists had gone home, and he was alone in the library.  
  
“Oh, look how lovely you are!” he whispered, his golden-brown eyes widening. The ship from Cairo had brought dozens of new papyruses to the library. There were more of them than usual, and the book dragon gave a thrilled little shiver from the tip of his gently smoking nose to the pointy end of his tail. He gently, gently reached up to the shelves, careful not to knock them over, and gathered a clawful of the new scrolls, unable to help giving them a little hug in delight. “You smell wonderful!” He loved the smell of fresh books--they always brought with them a little bit of wherever they were from, and Cairo must surely be full of amazing spice markets from the scents of its scrolls.  
  
The book dragon took the papyruses and slithered into the Reading Room, the biggest of all the library’s collection of buildings. He was quite a young dragon, but he was so long that his tail stretched all the way from Natural Sciences down the racks until the very tip curled around the old, wooden globe at the end of Art History.  
This was his favorite place to read, with an armful of fresh scrolls, surrounded by the thousands and thousands of books that made up his hoard. He settled in, wiggling to get all his scales laid flat, and grinned to himself as he peeked under the Natural History rack he leaned up against.  
  
“Ooh, dates and apricots!” A wooden tray was tucked under the shelves, covered in his favorite fruits. He was perfectly capable of catching mice or rats, but the braver librarians often left him little snacks. Sometimes he wished he could thank them, but he knew that they didn’t want to get close enough to talk to him. He sighed. He loved the library, but being alone was sometimes difficult. He picked up a fresh date in his long claws. He had discovered quite by accident when an errant hiccup caused him to let loose an unexpected bit of flame that dates were even sweeter and more delicious when they were toasted.  
  
The dragon made sure to hold the date well away from the rack of scrolls. “Just a little bit,” he told himself. “Carefully.” He took a deep breath, clicked the metal flecks in his teeth together to make a spark, and blew a tiny, tiny bit of fire over the date. It burned for a moment, then went out, leaving it warm, soft, and syrupy sweet. “See, that’s not so difficult.” He smiled and nibbled the date. He had only gotten old enough to start making fire the year before, and it was hard to control. His teeth mostly grew in plain old fangs, but when his baby teeth fell out, the ones in front grew back in with tiny bits of metal in the enamel. If he clicked them together and blew just a bit, he could turn the tiny spark into a flame.  
  
Accidentally toasting a date was one thing, but once he had slipped off a step while looking for a specific scroll on a high shelf, and the fall knocked the wind--and fire--out of him. A tapestry had burst into flames, terrifying him. He had burned his claws yanking it off the wall and stomping it out. The smoke was horrible, and he was horrified at what he had done. What if the books had caught fire? He was so ashamed that he dropped the charred tapestry right where it was and ran back to his basement cave to hide.  
  
The next morning, he eavesdropped on the librarians to see what they would say. The earliest workers got to the library barely after sunrise, ready to start work copying scrolls and doing research.  
  
“What in Osiris’s name happened here?” a librarian named Rane exclaimed. They clustered around the pile of burned cloth. The book dragon peeped out from around the corner, and one of the librarians noticed him.  
  
“The dragon!” he yelped, jumping up. Rane and the others jumped back, away from him. They looked from the ruined tapestry to the smoke wafting from the dragon’s nose. “You did this?” Rane said. “You could have burned down the whole building!” The dragon took a step forward, opening his mouth to apologize, but they leapt back in fear. He shrank back, trying not to frighten them.  
  
They scooped up the tapestry and backed out of the room, watching him all the while. Rane was the last one to leave. “I’m sorry,” the dragon whispered.  
The book dragon had been extra careful ever since not to let his fire get out of control. He was getting better at it, as long as he didn’t get scared or surprised. He had tried to stay further from the people studying in the library--there had been more of them lately, rushing back and forth. He had eavesdropped on them, and heard some talking about Julius Caesar bringing his ships to Alexandria. At first he was happy--more ships meant more new books!--but he overheard one of them of them say “invasion,” and just a few days ago, Rane and a handful of scholars had spent several hours around a table, talking about evacuating. The book dragon wasn’t sure what was going on, but it sounded alarming. They even talked about moving the books. Where, the dragon couldn’t tell. Rane and the other librarians didn’t seem to have a good place to take the books, but if they went, the dragon would go with them. He didn’t want to leave his beautiful library, but the books were more important than the buildings.  
  
The book dragon slowly nibbled the sweet dates and apricots, using the moonlight that came in the window to read the new scrolls that had arrived that day. Some of them were dull lists of supplies the ships were taking in and out of the port, or reports of the fighting going on in other parts of Egypt, but some were poetry or scientific treatises. The dragon peered over the careful drawings illustrating the newest ideas about the universe from Greece, read a new essay by Lucretius, and marvelled at the newest poem by Jia Yi of China. They were all astonishing.  
  
“Get the scrolls!”  
  
“There are too many! We have to go!”  
  
The dragon was deep into an epic poem, an apricot fallen from his claws onto the floor as he shivered at Jia Yi’s descriptions of a ghostly owl that meant anyone who saw it would die. He barely heard the shouts outside, when suddenly, Rane came skidding into the Reading Room. He froze when he saw the book dragon, stretched out the full length of the racks, surrounded by scrolls. “You!” he yelped.  
  
The dragon’s mouth dropped open. “Rane!” He leapt up, and Rane jumped backward in fright. He was hard to see--there was some kind of red glow coming through the windows behind him, even though it was nighttime. “I’m sorry!” the dragon stuttered. “I’m not hurting them, I promise! I was just reading the new ones!” He jumped up and shoved the pile of scrolls toward Rane. He could smell smoke. He couldn’t usually smell his own smoke, but it must be coming from his nose, and it was probably scaring Rane. He took a deep breath, trying to suck it back in.  
Rane stared at the dragon for another moment, as if unsure if he was going to attack. Then he scooped up as many scrolls from the floor as he could. “You’ve got to get out of here!” he said urgently. “They’re coming!”  
  
“What? Who’s coming?”  
  
“Caesar! He’s coming! We’ve got to go!” He looked terrified, and the book dragon didn’t know what to do. He stood there, frozen. Suddenly, Rane ran forward and pushed him, shouting, “Come on! Get out of here! Run!”  
  
No one had ever touched the dragon before. Shocked, he leapt back, and his long, thick tail lashed sideways. It struck a rack of books next to Rane, and to his horror, the rack tipped over. Rane screamed and dropped the scrolls in his arms, throwing his arms up to protect himself.  
  
“No!” shouted the dragon. He shoved Rane backward toward the door and threw himself under the rack of books. They slammed into him, clacking his teeth together and knocking the breath from him, and a great gout of flame was flung from his mouth, straight onto the huge pile of scrolls.  
  
It only took an instant. The scrolls erupted in flames, the tall racks catching almost instantly. The dragon reared up, and he saw Rane in the doorway on the far side of the flames, shielding his face from the heat.  
  
“Don’t worry about the books! You have to get out! Caesar is coming!” Rane shouted at the dragon, his face a mask of fear and grief. “Get out!” he screamed again, then turned and ran out of the library.  
  
The dragon was terrified. The fire was so hot, and he could hear screams and the sounds of fighting from outside. He thrashed around, trying to put out the flames, burning his hands and tail. The fire only grew higher, crawling up the walls along the racks, catching the tapestries and thousands of scrolls. He backed up, trying to get away from the heat.  
  
“No! Please stop!” he screamed at the fire. He was forced back further and further, toward the doors at the far end of the Reading Room. The fire chased him, unstoppable, and he finally was forced through the doors, outside the library. As he backed out, terrified of being out in the open almost as much as he was of the fire, he saw the rest of the library, its dozens of buildings stretching down the hill toward the port.  
  
It was burning. The ships in the port were aflame, and the other library buildings were burning; people running and screaming in all directions. Some were carrying scrolls, others children. An ostrich ran past in a panic, freed from the zoo. The young dragon didn’t understand. How could his fire have spread so fast? He was shaking with terror. He had destroyed everything. The book dragon looked back through the doors into the Reading Room one last time. It was a wall of flames, and as the ceiling collapsed, sparks flew into the sky.  
  
The dragon looked at the Royal Library, the only home he had ever known, as it was destroyed. “This is all my fault,” he whispered. He stretched his wings up to the sky and leapt straight up, through the cloud of burning sparks. His wings beat the air, and as he flew away in terror, the Great Library of Alexandria burned.  
  
The book dragon was never seen again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an original novel that I decided should see something other than the dust bunnies under my bed. I've loved Ao3 for years, but have never contributed to it before. I worked as a book editor for over a decade before deciding that traditional publishing was a nightmare and leaving it for medicine, but I never lost my love of writing.

Abigail lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. It had a water stain in one corner, and she hated everything about it. It was plain white, super boring. “Eggshell,” the realtor had called it. Her old bedroom in Virginia was purple, wall to wall. Her parents had painted it for her as a Christmas present when she was nine. Her new bed still had the purple sheets and purple comforter she had brought with her to New York, but it wasn’t the same. She had been the only one of her friends who had a purple bedroom, and it was awesome. Now she had a stupid white bedroom and no friends. And it was too hot for the comforter anyway; the air conditioning in this building was old, and the heat of the city beat in through the window.

She looked at her cell phone again. 9:32 a.m., and no texts or emails. Everyone back home was probably sleeping in, enjoying summer vacation. A lot of them didn’t have phones yet anyway; her parents only got her one because they were going to be working so much this summer, and they’d decided that twelve was old enough to entertain herself. If they had gotten her a phone back home, she would have been ecstatic. She could have shown it off to everyone. Instead, she got it as a consolation prize for moving to New York. And being left alone all summer. And starting middle school. At a new school, where she wouldn’t know anyone.

Ugh. She blinked back tears and refused to cry again.

“Dad!” she shouted as she ran down the stairs and grabbed her flip-flops and her purple purse. “I’m going for a walk!” The house was quiet--her mom was already at work, but she knew her dad was typing in the spare room he  
had turned into an office. Or pretending to type, anyway. She knew he still did promotional stuff for his books--signings and author conferences and stuff--but she didn’t think he’d really written anything in a couple of years. She heard shifting from inside the office and the sound of his chair sliding back.

“Hey, honey,” he said, opening the door. His shaggy blond hair needed a trim. “What are you up to?”

“I’m going to the park. I’ve got my phone.” She smiled, hoping he wouldn’t object. She couldn’t stare at that stupid water stain on her ceiling any more. He arched an eyebrow.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to walk you?”

“No! Geez, I’m totally fine. It’s only a few blocks.”

“Okay, but be careful. And text me a picture of it when you get there. I want to make sure you don’t get lost.” He kissed her on the head and she gave him a quick hug. Grabbing a muffin out of the fridge and stuffing her keys, notebook, and pencil in her purse, she headed outside.

God, it was hot. Virginia was humid, but at least it was a clean, naturey sort of humid. New York smelled. She walked down Forty-Second Street, trying not to be impressed by the absolutely enormous buildings on every side. They’d been in the city for two weeks, getting moved into the new apartment and filling out endless paperwork for the school that she absolutely did not want to go to in September. “Middle school,” she muttered to herself, ignoring the delicious smell of fresh rolls wafting out of a bakery as she strode down the street and squeezed her stupid muffin from her stupid apartment refrigerator. “It’s not even a house. Stupid apartment. Why did we have to move right when I have to start middle school? Couldn’t I have just stayed home and gone to school with everybody else?” She knew she was being ridiculous; there was no way Mom and Dad would have let her stay in Virginia when they moved to New York.

She had discovered the park the week after they’d moved into their new apartment. It was only a few blocks away, straight up their street. She’d stood on the corner, a little stunned, the first time she found it. She’d expected a park like the ones back home--kids on swings, maybe a teeter-totter, and a few people walking dogs around little sidewalks through the grass. Bryant Park was huge. A giant, green rectangle of lawn with hundreds of people everywhere, eating lunch, talking on phones, rushing around. There were tables and benches all around the edges of the park, full of people and dogs and even a girl walking a rabbit on a leash. She snapped a quick picture of the rabbit and sent it to her dad. There was a carousel. That was pretty amazing, and she couldn’t help wishing for a second that she’d lived there when she was younger. The park had tons of little places to buy food, and she had stuffed some allowance money in her pocket on the way out the door. She was perfectly old enough to buy herself a snack, right? And maybe a ticket for the carousel. ‘I’ve got no friends, so who’s going to make fun of me?’ she thought. Maybe there was one benefit to being totally new in a huge city.


	3. Chapter 3

After a ride on the carousel that she enjoyed more than she would admit to anyone, Abigail wandered around until she found an unoccupied tree. Scanning carefully for dog poop, she sat down in the shade and pulled out her phone. No notifications. She bit her lip and texted Lacy.

Hi! I miss you! How is home? It’s hot here. I found this big park and my mom and dad let me go there all by myself. :) Send.

She fiddled with her phone, and it lit up a minute later. Abigail grinned. Lacy!

Hi Abby! I miss you too! Is New York crazy? It’s the same as always here. My mom signed me up for horseback riding lessons! I wish you were here to ride with me. My horse is really nice and calm. Her name is Matilda. I can’t believe your parents let you walk around alone! Aren’t you scared?

Lacy was her best friend. They had been in Girl Scouts together for three years until Lacy declared she was never selling cookies again and was just going to eat them instead. They’d had slumber parties at each other’s houses all through elementary school, and they had graduated from fifth grade together a month before. Abigail should have had Lacy to help her start middle school in September, but instead, they had moved to New York, where she had nobody.

I wish I was there! Horseback riding sounds awesome! It’s kinda scary here. There’s a lot of people. But I’m figuring things out. I wish you were here.

Abigail read her text three times before hitting send, trying not to sound too lonely.

Me too! I’ve gotta go--my mom wants to go have Johnny’s Best Burgers. Bye!

Abigail sent a smiley face although she felt like crying. Johnny’s Best was their favorite place to eat. She hadn’t been there in ages. She pulled her knees up to her chest and tried not to think about sharing a large fries with Lacy and giggling while they kicked each other under the table. They both liked the spicy fries that their parents said were too hot to eat. They made up a secret language in second grade that no one could understand but them, and they would whisper it in each other’s ears while their parents talked about taxes or whatever.

Abigail pulled her notebook and pencil out of her purse. She flipped through the little drawings covering half the pages until she got to a blank one. Her pencil was just the right amount of worn down to fit in her hand. She looked around herself. ‘I’ll just do one of the trees,’ she thought. That would be easy enough. She’d always loved to draw. When she was a kid, she got in trouble a million times for coloring on the walls.

She started to sketch, but instead of a tree, she drew yet another picture of a blond little boy, the same one she had drawn a thousand times. She stared at it for a minute, hating herself, then shoved the pencil and paper back in her bag. She sat under the tree feeling sorry for herself until she got bored. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and got up, dusting off her behind. She decided to walk all the way around the outside edge of the park. Maybe she’d find something fun to do.

She was getting hungry, and she spotted a stand that sold hot dogs, hamburgers, and smoothies. (Her dad had sworn one night at dinner that New Yorkers called hot dogs “dirty water dogs” because of the greasy water they were cooked in, but she was sure he was making that up. How disgusting.) Her parents had given her some money for lunch and warned her to keep in it in her front pocket and to scream if anyone tried to take it, which had alarmed her immensely. There was a short line for the hot dogs, and she got at the end. A minute later, four girls about her age got in line behind her. Possible friends? Abigail wondered if they would go to the same school as her. She tried to look cool and casual, like she spent every day wandering around the city alone, and tried to figure out how to say hi to them without sounding like a complete idiot.

One of the girls, who had long, blonde hair in perfect beachy waves, was telling the others about how her parents said they would take her to Paris for spring break. Suddenly, something exploded under Abigail’s foot. She jerked back as a ketchup packet on the ground popped, squirting ketchup all over her foot and on the purse of the blonde girl. 

“Oh my god, what the heck?” the girl shrieked. 

“Sorry,” Abigail said in horror. 

“This is Kate Spade! Tourists, ugh. Watch where you’re going!” The girl roughly shoved past her, cutting in line and grabbing a stack of napkins to pat at her bag. 

“Jerk,” Abby muttered under her breath.

“What did you say?” the girl snapped, whirling around, her blue eyes flashing. Her friends giggled nervously. She was taller than Abby, but not too much older.

“Nothing.”

“Whatever.” The girl looked her up and down dismissively. “If you’re a tourist, you should get out of the way of people who actually live here.” Abby glared at her, tired of being hot and sweaty and bored.

“I’m not a tourist, all right? I live here,” Abby snapped. The girl laughed.

“Yeah, sure you do. Nice sandals.” All four of the girls looked down at her pink flip flops, one smeared with ketchup, and the two brunettes giggled. Abby realized they were all wearing fancy black boots, even in the heat. “Try not to step in dog poop in those, tourist.” They turned around and ordered smoothies. Abby glared at their backs, trying to rub the ketchup onff her foot in the grass until the cashier finally handed their drinks over. She started to step up to order hers as the four girls turned to leave, but as she did, the snotty blonde one turned suddenly and ran straight into her, slopping strawberry smoothie straight down her front.

“Crap!” Abby shrieked, pulling the sodden, freezing shirt away from her skin. The girl laughed loudly.

“Oh my god, did I spill on you? I’m so sorry!” she said. “Here, let me help!” She grabbed a handful of napkins from the counter and shoved them at Abby’s chest. “Sorry about that!” she said gaily, and she and the other three girls walked away laughing.

Abby stomped away from the line, swiping at her shirt and getting the worst of the glop off of it, trying to keep her long, brown hair out of the mess and failing. She was trying to stave off the furious tears that were forming. ‘What a jerk,’ she thought, wiping the rest of ketchup off her foot and flinging the napkins into a trash can. ‘It was just an accident.’ She needed to wash the sticky junk off and fumed to herself as she stomped down the street. She walked about three blocks without finding a public restroom. All the shops had signs that read “Restroom for Customers Only.” ‘What is with this stupid city? Why are there no freaking bathrooms anywhere?’ She was getting further from her apartment, but she was too mad and frustrated to care. She swiped at her eyes, hating that she always cried when she was angry. She joined the crowd at a red light waiting to cross, and finally took a minute to look around.

There was a lion. She jumped a little in surprise. There was a huge marble lion sitting on a pedestal just a few feet away. Then she realized it was one of a pair, one on each side of an absolutely enormous marble staircase, leading into a building whose entrance had a sign etched in the marble over the doors: The New York Public Library.

She walked up the steps, hoping no one would notice a kid in a filthy, wet tee-shirt going in the library alone. There were dozens of people rushing in and out of the doors, and lots of people standing on the steps taking photos of the building, so she slipped into the library as if she belonged there.

It was beautiful. She stopped in the middle of the entranceway, stunned by the beautiful marble lobby, with staircases stretching up on both sides. “Excuse me,” someone said, bumping into her as they tried to get by in the crowd.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, quickly moving out of the way. Through the lobby she walked into the most beautiful room she’d ever seen. The reading room had dark wood tables, dozens of chandeliers, huge windows, and a ceiling covered with paintings of the sky. And, to her relief, a small sign to one side reading, “Restroom: This Way.”


	4. Chapter 4

Abigail ran water over paper towels and sponged off her shirt as best she could, then wrung it out over the sink. It was wrinkled, but she figured no one would notice. Women were walking in and out of the busy restroom, and although a few glanced her way, no one bothered her. They probably figured her mom was waiting for her outside. Luckily, she was tall for her age, so she looked a little older than she was. Her hair was a sweaty mess, and the ends had sticky strawberry in them, so she dipped them in the sink and tried to rinse them off.

‘Gross. I guess that’s as good as it’s going to get,’ she thought, chucking the sodden mass of paper towels in the trash can. She left the restroom, trying to look like she belonged in the fancy library. There was a handy map on the wall, so she wandered over to it, enjoying the coolness of the air after the sweltering heat outside. “Teen Reading Room” jumped out at her. It was next to the room marked “Children’s Play Room” and sounded much more appealing than the kids’ room. She had gotten too big to play in the McDonald’s play area the year before and felt like a giant compared to all the cute little kids. She secretly still liked swinging on the swings at the park around the corner from her old house, but only when nobody was looking.

“Right, then left, and left again,” she whispered to herself, trying to memorize the way so she wouldn’t have to ask for help.

She walked down the marble hallways and made it to the teen room, and she immediately smiled. It felt like being at home again. The marble ended here, and the floor was covered with the same sort of dingy old carpet as the library back home. There were banged-up racks of books and a bunch of couches and desks scattered around. There was a girl about her age sitting on a purple couch with her face buried in a Harry Potter book. Behind her there were two big Lego statues--They were the lions from outside the library! They looked exactly like the big marble lions, but made of Legos. Her feet carried her over to them without a thought.

“Geez, that must have taken forever,” she muttered.

“Six and a half months,” someone said behind her.

She whirled around. It was the girl on the purple couch. She had dark skin and thick, almost black hair, cut just to her shoulders to frame her round face. She had glasses on with really cool angled frames that Abigail instantly wanted. She was smiling.

“Six months? Seriously? How do you know?”

“My mom works here. She’s a librarian. I used to go to day care in the summer and after school, but I promised I’d behave, so she said since I’m twelve now, I can hang out at the library and the park this summer.” She bounced off the couch and over to the lions. Abigail noticed that she was wearing a pair of beat-up old pink tennis shoes that were exactly the same as a pair Abigail had in her closet at home. She had the funny, raspy accent that everybody had here.

“She’s a librarian here? That must be a ton of work.” Abigail remembered the school librarian from back home; she was sweet and always knew how to find the book you were looking for, but this library was huge. 

“Well, supposedly she’s a library system analyst. Basically, she makes sure all the computers work so people can look stuff up. She has to work late whenever the computers stop working right, and then Dad lets me get pizza and watch movies. It’s awesome.” Abigail grinned.

“That’s cool.” She looked back at the Lego lions. “Did you make these?” The girl laughed.

“No, totally not. Some artist did.” She pointed at the lion on the left. “That one’s Patience, and that one’s Fortitude.”

“Fortitude?” Abigail was confused.

“Yeah, those’re their names. The ones outside, I mean. They’re totally famous.” She arched an eyebrow. “Are you visiting? You don’t sound like you’re from here.”

“I just moved here at the beginning of summer. I’m from Virginia. My mom got a job here. Not here at the library here, but here in the city. She works at the college. I just found this place.”

“Cool. Welcome to New York!” She bounced on her toes excitedly. “Well, if you’re gonna be a New Yorker, you have to know about the lions. They’re super old and fancy, and people come from all over to see them. They used to be called Astor and Lenox, after some rich old dudes who built the library, but a while back, they changed their names to Patience and Fortitude.”

Abigail was embarrassed to admit that she didn’t know something, but she couldn’t help asking, “What’s fortitude?”

“It means ‘strength and courage in adversity,’” the girl said. “There’s a sign outside about them. I’ve read it about a million times.”

“Cool.” Abigail smiled. “I’m Abigail. I live right down the street.”

“I’m Ruby. Rubira, really, but everybody calls me Ruby.”

“I like your glasses--they’re really cool.”

“Ugh, thanks; I hate them. But I have to be really careful with them; one time I stepped on them and one of the lenses popped out, and my mom was super mad.” She rolled her eyes.

“One time I broke my dad’s favorite coffee mug, and I didn’t want him to know, so I glued it all back together, and then when he went to fill it up, the handle came off in his hand and spilled coffee all over him. I thought he was gonna kill me!” They both laughed, and Ruby nudged Abby with her shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll show you around!”

Ruby gave Abigail a tour of the building. They rode up and down the elevators about twenty times, giggling, until Ruby said somebody was going to notice and kick them out. They snuck through a door marked Employees Only, and Abigail was worried that they were going to get in trouble, but Ruby said she’d done in a bunch of times.

“There’s seven floors of books underground, one stacked on top of the next. There’s about a million books down here! They use computers and robots and stuff to find them all. Nobody hardly ever goes down to the lowest one. I snuck down there one time, and it was all deserted, and I had to turn the lights on myself because they’re motion activated, and then I sat down to read a book for too long, and all the lights shut off! It was so dark! I had to jump up and down and wave my arms to get them to come back on!” Abigail giggled as Ruby shivered at the memory.

They went outside and reached up as high as they could to pet the lions. “Hello, Patience. You seem very nice,” Abigail said solemnly, making Ruby laugh. She had a big grin and very white teeth and bounced when she walked. ‘She’s like a cheerleader,’ Abigail thought to herself. She had always been pretty quiet, although she had plenty of friends. She just preferred drawing to hanging out with a bunch of people.

Abigail looked at her phone. “It’s getting late. I’ve gotta go pretty soon. My dad is going to wonder where I went. Are you going home soon?”

“Not yet. My mom has to stay until 5:30 most nights, so sometimes she lets me walk home, but on Tuesday and Thursday, she let me sign up for this art class. It’s awesome! We do pottery sometimes, and we made collages with all this fabric the teacher brought it. You should do it too! None of the other kids in it go to my new school.” Rubira smiled hopefully.

“That sounds awesome! Art is my favorite thing ever. I’ll ask my mom and dad.”

Abigail walked back up the street toward her new apartment building. At least it was easy to find--it was the only bright orange building among the sea of shiny glass high-rises. It was shorter than its neighbors, and older. It was on the opposite side of the street from the library. She had been terrified to cross the roads here for the first week, just walking around the block her building was on. ‘This is insane,’ she had thought, watching the mass of cars, nearly touching each other’s bumpers, honking and weaving around each other, with bike riders darting in and out of the mess (delivery guys, she had realized after puzzling over why they all had big bags over their shoulders), and pedestrians just walking out into traffic without hardly even looking. She hadn’t dared to go further than the corner of her street for three days, but on her third day, she saw a woman pushing a stroller and holding a toddler’s hand getting ready to cross the street, and she kind of sidled up next to them, hoping people would think she was with them. The lady noticed her.

“Are you going to the park, honey?” the woman asked kindly. She was black, with long dark braids that hung down nearly to her waist and shifted as she walked.

“Um. Yeah! Totally. I’m going to the park.” She had no idea what park the woman was talking about, but it was better than standing on a street corner all day like a nerd.

“Us too! Come on, it’ll be easier if we cross together.”

“Taxi, Ma, taxi!” the toddler shrieked, pointing at a yellow car driving past.

“That’s just a car, honey. They won’t take you to the park.” The woman smiled down at her daughter. “She thinks every car is a taxi,” she added.

The light changed. The lady said, “Come on, we have the light!” She pushed her stroller and toddler out into traffic as if she did it every day. Which she probably did, Abigail realized. She quickly stepped off the curb, hovering close to the little girl’s side as if she were protecting her from the crush of cars and people, instead of hoping they would protect her.

The woman weaved and darted through the crowd, Abigail tight on her heels. Abby let out a huge breath of relief when they reached the other side without getting killed.

“You’re new here, right? Didn’t you just move in?” the lady asked as they walked down the street.

“Um, yeah,” Abigail said nervously. How did she know? Was she stalking them or something? “We just got here a couple of days ago.”

“I thought so. I live in your building. I saw you with your mom and dad hauling boxes up the back elevator.”

“Oh! Yeah, we had a ton of those. They’re all stacked up in the spare room and out on the balcony. My mom said hopefully it won’t rain before we get them unpacked. Our old house was way bigger than the apartment, so we have too much stuff. Although we got rid of a lot.”

Abigail tried not to remember all the things they had gotten rid of. Her dad, sheet white and emotionless, dragging her brother’s little bed out to the street to be thrown away, or her mom dumping dozens of little kid board books and stuffed animals into boxes, saying that she was going to take them to a thrift store because maybe some other kid would want them, and then dumping them all in the garbage anyway when she thought Abigail wasn’t looking. “I just can’t stand to think of someone else touching them,” she heard her mom whisper to her dad. Her brother’s bike. An old high chair she Abigail had used before her brother inherited it.

The little collection of battered toy cars went into a shoebox. It didn’t get thrown away. Abigail had seen it in her mom’s suitcase, carefully tucked in next to socks and underwear. She knew it had gotten unpacked first and tucked carefully into a dark corner under her parents’ bed where it couldn’t be seen or touched, right next to the small jar, the urn, that she had sometimes hugged back home when she couldn’t stand the quiet in the house any more.

“Yeah, that always happens when you move,” the lady said cheerfully. She was wearing stylish pale slacks and a tank top that looked like it was silk, it was so smooth and light. Abigail had the urge to run her fingers over it just to feel how soft it was. It was bright white, shimmering in the sunlight, and Abigail wondered how she could keep it clean. Her mom used to always joke about how it didn’t matter that the kids got their dirty hands all over her shirts because she couldn’t eat without spilling on herself anyway.

The little girl started skipping with excitement. “Park, Ma! Park! Park!” She pointed up ahead where a green rectangle of lawn stretched out.

“Yep, we’re almost there, sweetheart! Are you gonna have fun?”

“Park!” the girl yipped with joy, and Abigail couldn’t help but smile.

“You can go ahead, sweetie,” the mom said, now that the park was only a little ways ahead. She let go of the girl’s hand, and the toddler raced away on her chubby little legs, a halo of black curls bouncing around her head. The woman sighed with relief and dropped her diaper bag into the empty stroller.

“She’s really cute,” she told the woman.

“Thanks,” the lady said. “I’m Janice. We’re in 437 if you ever need anything, okay? Feel free to say hi! We’ve been in the building for a couple of years, so if your parents need help with anything, tell them to come by.” She smiled. “Be careful crossing the streets, okay? You’re not a real New Yorker until you almost get hit by a cab! Keep your head up, look carefully, and then just go. You gotta act like you own the place, or people will run you right over.” Abigail smiled gratefully.

“I will. Thanks a lot! Have fun playing!”

After that, Abigail was less scared of crossing the streets. She just pretended that she had Janice’s cute little girl to protect and stepped out into traffic as if they all had to go around her (although she was always careful to wait until the walk sign lit up), and she had been able to get most anywhere she wanted to go after that.


	5. Chapter 5

“Come on over, they totally won’t care.”

“Okay, I’m on my way!”

It was Saturday morning, and Abigail jetted around her room, tucking her old teddy bear under her pillow and throwing away some old crackers that had been sitting on her desk.

“Dad, I met this girl at the park and I invited her over. I hope that’s okay!” Her dad looked up from the tv in surprise. He used to say that tv rotted your brain, but apparently that wasn’t true in their new life. At least he had real clothes on and not pajamas.

“You made a new friend? That’s great, honey! Of course it’s fine. Is she staying for lunch? I hope we have something to eat.” Her mom had grabbed some bags of groceries on the way home from work a few days before, but the stores here were so much smaller than the giant grocery stores they had in Virginia. The ones on their street looked more like convenience shops, but they had all kinds of fruits and vegetables, toilet paper, and all the normal stuff, just crammed into a little shop. It was weird, but it was definitely easier to find stuff than trudging over a giant Wal-Mart.

“If not, can we maybe go get something? She’s from here, so I’m sure she can find us a place to eat if you don’t mind. Do you have any money?”

The weird doorbell buzzed a few minutes later; there was a box on the wall that beeped when someone wanted to come upstairs. Abigail pushed the big button that told the doorman he could send Ruby up. She ran out in the hallway until Ruby emerged from the elevator and gave her a squeeze.

“You made it! You’re the first person I’ve had over here.” Ruby grinned, her thick, dark hair waving as she bounced on her toes with excitement. Abigail let her in.

“Dad, this is Ruby,” she said over the tv. He looked over vaguely, and looked surprised to see the girls, as if he had already forgotten that Abigail invited someone over. He jumped off the couch.

“Hello, I’m Phillip, Abigail’s dad,” he said with a smile. Abby blushed as he stuck out his hand as if Ruby were a banker or something, but Ruby shook it firmly--maybe they were into shaking hands here.

“Hi! I’m Ruby! Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Any time. I’m glad that Abby is making friends.”

“Yeah, she’s going to the same school I am next year! I used to go to private school, St. Mary’s around the corner, but next year I’ll be at P.S. 427 with Abby.” She nudged Abigail. “I’ve been showing her around. I think she likes the library even more than my mom does, and she works there!”

“The library?” Phillip asked.

“Uh, yeah. The big library down the street? That’s where Abby and me met.” Ruby looked surprised that he didn’t know that.

“Huh. I didn’t know you’d explored that far.” He frowned at Abigail.

“It’s straight up the street!” Abigail protested. “Remember, I asked Mom about that art class, and she said I could go. It’s at the library.” She hadn’t exactly asked, really. She’d waited until her mom was buried in her laptop answering a million emails; her mom had said yes without even noticing, and Abigail knew she wouldn’t bother mentioning it to her dad. “Come on, Ruby, come see my room!” She pulled Ruby down the tiny hallway to room.

“Wow, this place is super nice! Way nicer than mine. Your mom and dad must be rich,” Ruby said, looking around the small room and peering out the window at the street below.  
Abigail shrugged.

“It’s way smaller than my old house, but it’s okay, I guess.”

Ruby bounced on the purple comforter. “Are you kidding? My building is super old and there’s never enough heat in winter. I have to use like twenty blankets. What’s through there?” She pointed at the second door.  
“The bathroom and the spare room.”

“You have your own bathroom? That’s awesome! I’ll have to share with my baby sister when she gets potty trained. And you have an extra room? That’s crazy!”

Abigail hopped onto her bed and fiddled with some toys she had piled on the headboard. “Well, it’s full of old stuff and furniture we didn’t have room for, because our old house was bigger than this place. But I don’t know why we have it. The school my mom works for found us this place before we got here, and they pay for part of it. But I don’t know why they gave us three bedrooms. They knew we only needed two.”

“I’m so jealous that you don’t have any brothers and sisters. My sister is almost two, and she cries all the time. She’s fun to play with when she’s happy, but mostly she just wants to throw things on the floor and eat. And she had temper tantrums. Then I wish I was an only child.”

Abby looked down. She hated this part. At least back home, everyone had known what happened; she hardly ever had to explain to anyone. “I’m not an only child. Or at least I wasn’t. I had a little brother. James. He died two years ago.”

Ruby’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously? I mean, sorry, that was so rude. But that’s so sad!”

“Yeah, it really stinks. He had brain cancer.” She didn’t want to think about James or his damaged head or all the tubes sticking out of his arms and nose. “He was four years younger than me. He was six when he died.” He had blond hair just like her dad’s, and he always laughed when she pretended to steal his French fries at dinner. She looked down and fiddled with her comforter.

“Anyway, my mom and dad got a bunch of money from some charity collection after that. I guess people had been donating to his hospital bills and helping pay for his funeral and stuff. My parents didn’t want to keep it afterward. I remember my mom crying one night, and she told my dad it was blood money. ‘How can we make money off James dying?’ she said. My dad told her they should keep it for me so that they could at least make sure I got a good education even though I lost my brother.” She twisted her hands together. “Apparently moving here was part of that.” She remembered her parents fighting one night when they thought she was asleep. Her mom said she couldn’t stand to stay in the house where James died. Her dad shouted that she was trying to forget him, and her mom threw the tv remote at him. It hit the wall, and the next day, Abigail ran her fingers over the mark where it had struck the wall, thinking about the spot on her bedroom wall upstairs where James had hit his head, the one she carefully pushed her desk in front of to keep it hidden. 

A week later, her parents announced that her mom had taken a job in New York, and her dad said how great it would be to be closer to his publisher, and they put a For Sale sign up in front of their house.

The next day, Abby’s dad said he would walk her over to Ruby’s apartment so she and Ruby could play. “Hey, hold on once sec,” he said. “Let’s stop in here a minute.” He pulled her down the stairs to the subway station on their block.

“Are we taking the subway? Ruby’s house is only right up the street.”

“No, but I’ve been meaning to get you a ticket in case you ever need one in an emergency.” He stood in front of the ticket machine for a few minutes, reading the directions. A guy who was busily typing on his cell phone behind them sighed loudly in irritation and ostentatiously went to use another machine. Finally her dad swiped his credit card through the machine, and two tickets popped out. He handed her one and stuck the other in his wallet.

“There. Keep that safe--it’s like money. Now if you’re ever stuck somewhere, you can get home. But be safe! You can always, always call us, you know.” He smiled at her.

“I know. Thanks, Dad!” They went back up to the street and and over to Ruby’s building. Her dad let Abigail tell the doorman she was there to see Rubira Singh.

“Can I come up and meet them?” he asked with a smile.

“Dad! Come on, you said you were in a hurry!” Her dad was wearing an old-stained tank top and shorts and his beat-up running shoes. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get a long run in today?”

“Okay, kid, I won’t embarrass you with my tacky outfit. But I want to meet Ruby’s parents soon, okay?” He ruffled her hair as the doorman waved her through. “Call me when you’re ready to come home and I’ll come get you.” He went running almost every day now, more than he had in the past. He used to run early in the morning, and sometimes he still did, coming back sweaty and exhausted just as Abigail was getting out of bed, but he had started running in the evenings too, after her mom got home from work. They would trade places on the couch, her mom surrounding herself in her students’ papers and piles of research books. She would wave goodbye to him without getting up as he slipped out the door. When Abigail was littler, her mom never let her dad go running without a goodbye kiss. “What if you fall and break a leg?” she would tease.

“You think I can’t kiss you with a broken leg?” he would say with a grin.  
Abigail pressed the elevator button. The elevator was dingy and definitely older than the one in her building. It made some scary creaking noises on the way upstairs. 

Ruby’s apartment was amazing.The living room had an entire wall made out of bricks. Abigail had never seen a brick wall inside a house before. Baby Samira toddled up to her and hugged her leg. “Ruby friend?” she asked.

“Um, yeah, I’m Ruby’s friend,” Abigail said shyly.

“Come on in, Abby!” Ruby’s mom called, walking in from the kitchen. “Samira, leave her alone!”

“She’s adorable,” Abigail said. She tickled baby Samira under her chin, and the baby gurgled happily. “Um, why do you have a brick wall in your living room?” she couldn’t help asking. “I’ve never seen an outside wall on the inside before.”

“That’s just how we build things in the city, kid,” Ruby’s mom said. Her accent was thicker than Ruby’s. “I’m Lori. I’m glad you could come over to play--Ruby’s told us so much about you.”  
Ruby grabbed her arm with a wide smile. “Come see my room!”

“I had to have braces for a year and this awful spacer that made my mouth bigger so all my teeth would fit instead of coming in all crooked.” Ruby was examining her teeth in the mirror of her little bedroom. Abigail was looking out the window at the alleyway below. “Sorry it’s not as nice as yours,” Ruby said.

“Are you kidding? It’s totally cute!” Ruby’s room was tiny, but she had a super-cool huge piece of fabric pinned up on the wall behind her bed printed with a green, swirling pattern that Abigail was immediately in love with. It was so big it stretched from edge of the wall to the other, almost like wallpaper. “This poster thing? Is awesome.”

“It’s a tapestry. My dad brought it back from India one time.”

“Wow!” She ran her fingers over the soft fabric. “Your dad’s been to India?”

“He’s from here. His bank sends him back for work a lot.” Ruby was twisting back and forth in front of the mirror, pulling her shirt tight over her chest. “Do you think the girls at public school will wear bras?” She was shorter than Abigail, but definitely curvier on top. “Ugh. I hate this. It’s so weird how these things stick out.” 

“Why?” Abigail wasn’t particularly excited about getting breasts, but she was taller and skinnier than most of the girls in her old class, and at least they would make her look girlier. She hoped there’d be somebody taller than her in her new school.

“They’re so obvious. I was going to the candy store a couple of weeks ago, and some gross old guy yelled ‘Hey sexy lady!’ at me while he was driving by.”

“Eww. Gross.” 

“Seriously.”

“Rubira! Are you hungry for lunch?” Ruby’s mom called through the door.

“Yes!” Ruby hollered back, and they ran to eat.

“So, what you do your parents do?” Ruby’s mom asked.

“My mom is a teacher. A professor, really,” Abigail said politely, scooping rice onto a piece of flatbread. It was a little weird, but delicious. “She teaches American history at the university. The old kind, like back during the Revolutionary War. That’s why we moved here--the school offered her a job. My dad is a writer.”

“Really? Have I read anything he’s written?”

“I dunno, maybe if you like detective stories. His name is Phillip Hart.”

“Straight up?” Ruby’s mom almost dropped her fork in excitement. “I’ve got three of his books! I wonder if he would sign them? Tell him I’m a big fan.”

“I will, thanks. And thanks for letting me come over.”

“Any time! Ruby was talking about having a sleepover soon, if your parents would let you come spend the night.”

“Definitely!”


	6. Chapter 6

“I need some sun,” Abigail declared. They’d been wandering around the library, and she was bored, so they walked over to the park and plopped down in the shade. She had her notebook out, determined to sketch something other than James’s face. She absently drew a fall of long, black braids, remembering Janice helping her across the street the first time she came to the park.

“Those are pretty,” Ruby said quietly. She was subdued, her usual bubbliness flattened. Even her thick, wavy hair seemed to sag.

“Thanks. I met this lady, Janice, from my building, when I first got here. She had these really long awesome braids. She was really nice.” Ruby was staring off into space, not listening.

“Are you okay?” Abigail asked.

“My dad has to leave again. I thought he was gonna be home for a month, but he’s got some banking emergency he has to take care of.” Ruby picked at the grass around her feet. “He’s going to India next week.” He did some kind of investment stuff that Abigail hadn’t understood but that sounded really dull. 

“Ugh, that sucks.”

“Yeah. My mom’s pretty mad. He said he wants to go away for the weekend to someplace upstate--he’s trying to make it up to her.” Abigail spotted something unpleasant. Geez, she thought. In a city with this many people, how did she managed to run into those same four girls again?

“Oh, crap, it’s them.” She ducked behind the tree, pulling Ruby with her.

“Who?” Ruby peeked out from behind the tree, and Abigail yanked her back by her sleeve.

“These stupid girls. I don’t even know them, but they hate me. I have no idea why--I ran into them when I first got here, and they’ve been bothering me ever since.” The leader, the skinny one with curly blond hair who Ruby had gotten ketchup on, was wearing a bikini top under a white tank top and a pair of jean shorts. She looked like a teenager, with boobs and everything.

“Let go, lemme see.” Ruby edged around the tree.

“Over by the carousel. Aren’t they too old for that? I hate them.”

“Oh. Them.” Ruby pulled back behind the tree, looking grim.

“What, you know them? Who are they?”

“They go to my old school. They’re in seventh grade, and they’re super mean. That one in the bikini is a complete jerk. Her name’s Genevieve. Genna Suffolk. She thinks she’s so awesome because her parents are super rich. She got in trouble last year for writing cuss words all over the lockers. Her friends did too. They probably would have gotten kicked out, but Genna’s mom is the vice-principal. They’re part of the reason my mom and dad said I could switch to public school.”

“Ugh.”

One of the other girls nudged Genna and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. She lit it and took a drag, coughing. The other girls laughed raucously and passed the cigarette around, taking turns.  
“Eww, gross!” Ruby’s nose wrinkled. “That one’s Mercedes. I heard that her brother’s in jail.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He’s in college, and I heard he hit somebody with his car ‘cause he was drunk or something.” She peeked out at the knot of girls again. “They’re bad news.” Mercedes took the last drag off the cigarette, and tossed it on the ground. Several mothers watching their kids on the carousel glared at her. Ruby and Abigail hid behind the tree as the group walked past them.

“I’m starving. Kiara, don’t you owe me some money? You should buy me a slice,” they could hear Genna saying to a pale, freckled girl with reddish hair. She was carrying a cute purse with a big K on it, and she looked a little nervous.

“I bought you a slice last week!” she protested. “My mom’s gonna get pissed if I ask her for more money! Why don’t you have any? You get way more allowance than me!” Genna rolled her eyes.

“My dad cut me off last week because I snuck out.”

“‘Reelie, you got any money? Come on, I’m starving!” she ordered.

The fourth girl reached in her pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “I told my dad that I needed money for the subway.” She grinned. “But you gotta quit calling me that! You know I hate it.”

“Fine, Aurelia,” Genna said, rolling her eyes. “Pepperoni!” They marched away. Genna kicked at a trash can as they left the park, making a loud clang and scaring a pigeon, which flapped into the sky with a screech.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Ugh. I hate them. Changing schools sucks, but I’m so glad I won’t have to deal with them any more,” Ruby said. “Come on, I’m hungry. There’s a bodega down the street that has awesome chili dogs.”

“A what?”

“You don’t know what a bodega is? Like, a little store? Sells cool stuff? Come on, girl, you’re gonna learn something today!”


	7. Chapter 7

Abigail wandered down the street, her notebook tucked in her back pocket, wishing Ruby weren’t off having fun with her dad. He had taken her and her family to some hotel for a couple of nights before he had to leave for India. She tried not to be jealous; it was probably terrible having him leave all the time for work. Abigail’s dad was home all the time, but he hadn’t taken her on the Staten Island Ferry yet or to lunch at some fancy hotel, or anything like that. He was having a good day if he managed to get out of his pajamas and sit at his computer all morning. Abigail felt a sudden stab of guilt. ‘He probably misses James more than you do,’ she told herself. ‘Selfish.’

She didn’t feel like sitting in the park again, so she turned on a random street and walked slowly, looking at the shops. ‘Bodegas,’ she reminded herself. Her mom had saved their apartment’s address in the GPS on Abigail’s phone, so she didn’t have to worry too much about getting lost. She walked along, not paying much attention, running her hand along a tall, wrought iron fence running along the street. Beyond it was a small lawn with big, pretty trees and an old building with tons of little windows. She saw a sign that read “St. Mary’s Academy” hanging from the locked gate and suddenly realized that this must be Ruby’s old school. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the sign, thinking that she could tell Ruby she’d found her old school.

Abigail rounded a corner of the school, admiring the trees and not paying much attention, when she suddenly smelled a sweet smoke. She looked up from her daze and realized she had wandered into an alleyway, with the school fence on one side and the wall of some old building on the other. It was dingy and she almost stepped in dog poop. There was smoke wafting from behind a trash dumpster parking down the alley, and she approached it, worried that there might be a fire. She was still holding her phone in her hand, thinking she might need to call for help.

Just as she walked around the dumpster, she heard giggling. “Don’t hog it!” a girl said, and she looked up just as Abigail appeared in sight.

It was them. Genevieve and her friends, the four from the park, leaning against wall. Genevieve was rolling a rock between her fingers, looking dazed until she saw Abigail. They stared at each other a moment, and Abigail looked at what the red-haired girl was holding awkwardly in her hand. Kiara, she remembered. It was like a cigarette, but it looked handmade, and there was green stuff poking out where the end was rolled up.

“Is that...drugs?” Abigail couldn’t help saying.

Genna grabbed the cigarette from Kiara. “What do you care?”

“Um, it’s bad for you?” The four girls laughed.

“Don’t you think you oughta mind your own business, dork?”

‘Walk away,’ Abigail told herself, but she felt frozen in between the knot of girls and the fence. “Isn’t that your school?” she couldn’t help asking. Genna pushed away from the wall, the smoking cigarette clutched in her hand.

“Excuse me? How do you know that? Are you following us or something?”

“Uh, no, I just heard that you went there. And your mom works there.” Suddenly Genna looked enraged and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“My mom? Do you know my mom?!” She lunged toward Abigail as if to shove her, and the rock she held in one hand flew loose, flying at Abby’s face. Abigail flung her arms up to protect herself, her phone clutched in one hand, and they both heard the “click” as Abby accidentally took a photo.

The rock bounced past her just as her phone displayed a picture of Genna, enraged, clutching the smoking joint in her hand. The both stared at the picture for an instant, and then Genna shrieked, “Give me that!”  
Abigail turned and ran.

She raced down the alley, the sounds of the girls running behind her. She could hear Genna shouting as she pounded out of the alley onto the street. It was busy, but she didn’t think that would stop them. She darted between people, running randomly. She heard Genna shrieking cuss words behind her, and it sounded like she was catching up. Abigail blinked tears out of her eyes as she raced down the street.  
Suddenly she saw a black square ahead of her, low on the ground. It was a staircase down into the street. An entrance to the subway! She hadn’t ridden it yet, but she had the subway card her dad had bought in her purse--maybe she could get on a train before they caught her.

She ran down the stairs, dodging in between the shoulders of pedestrians, pushing past a clot of tourists watching two guys dancing to loud music. She couldn’t tell if the girls had followed her into the station, and she was crying hard enough that she could hardly see. She dodged to the right down a random tunnel, and as she darted around a group of people looking at a map, she saw a staircase down to a lower level. It had a chain across it, but she ducked underneath and raced down the stairs.

Down into a dimmer tunnel, she ran right again, and took a left through another opening in the wall. Suddenly it got darker--the main lights were off here, with just small emergency lights illuminating the way. She paused, gasping, and tried to stop crying long enough to look around. She wiped her eyes hard with her sleeve.

The tunnel was narrow and dingy. The tiles here were old and dirty, and it was dark at the end of the tunnel. It was empty, just a couple of old benches covered in dust. “I am so not supposed to be here,” she said out loud. It was clearly a disused tunnel that had been closed off ages ago. Abigail looked back the way she had come--she didn’t know if Genna and her squad were up there waiting for her.

“Heck with that,” she said, wiping at her nose again. She walked slowly down into the shadows at the end of the tunnel. It was dark enough here that no one could see her if they followed her down the stairs. There was a bench facing the tracks, with some kind of broken-open section of wall behind it leading to a dark hole. She sat down on the filthy bench, pulled her knees up to her chin, and tried to stop shaking.  
Eventually, her heart slowed down and her breathing calmed. She pressed her forehead into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut. It was cool and silent in the tunnel, with no sound but that of her own breathing.  
Almost no sound.

As Abby calmed down, she realized she could hear something else. Something behind her. Breathing. Suddenly she couldn’t hear anything except that. ‘It’s just wind,’ she thought. ‘Just wind. From the trains or something.’ Slowly, slowly, she raised her head from her knees, staring straight ahead. She thought maybe if she just pretended she didn’t hear anything, she could walk back toward the exit before the whatever-it-was realized she could hear it. She stopped breathing, listening to the sound. A slow, deep, in-and-out sound that was definitely something alive. Something biggish. Big. She clenched her teeth, trying not to throw up. ‘Go!’ she told herself.  
Slowly, she eased her feet off the bench to the ground, and paused. Had the breathing changed? No, it was still there. Maybe a bit faster. ‘Oh god.’ She scooted forward a bare inch, preparing to stand up. ‘Pretend you don’t hear it. Pretend you don’t hear it.’ With every muscle tensed, she slid off the bench and got to her feet. The breathing didn’t change. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it was a homeless person. Maybe it was some kind of dog that was more scared of her than she was of it. Yeah. Definitely.

Squeezing her hands into fists at her sides, as casually as she could, she turned to her left and took a slow, silent step toward the exit. And another. A third step, and something moved in the dark opening behind her bench. Before she could stop herself, her head jerked and she turned to look at it.

A pair of huge, dark eyes was staring back at her. As a giant head slipped forward on a long, reptilian neck, she saw the flutter of two leathery wings taller than she was in the dimness of the tunnel.   
“Hello,” the monster said, and Abby screamed.


	8. Chapter 8

‘I’m going crazy,’ she thought. She squeezed her eyes shut and decided that when she opened them again, she would be in an empty, abandoned subway tunnel, possibly about to be beaten up by a bunch of jerk girls wearing stupid boots with too many straps. ‘It says a lot about my life that that is the best possible option.’ She opened her eyes.

The dark hole in the wall was empty. ‘I really am going crazy.’ She heaved a deep breath, and as she turned to return to the city outside the subway tunnel, something shifted, slithered, in the broken-open cave, and there it was.  
Scales. Greenish-brown and covered in mildew. Claws as long as her hand. A long neck, with a ruff of frilled spikes. Two rather adorable tiny ears. And two big brown eyes that looked at her shyly. She stared at it.

“Um. Uh.”

It blinked at her, peeping around the edge of the cave, and she realized it looked as scared as she was.

“Hello,” Abigail said. It jerked its head back in surprise, then peered back out at her.

“Hello,” it said again.

“You can talk.”

“So can you.”

They stared at each other for another long moment.

“Are you going to eat me?” Abigail smacked her hands over her mouth. “I mean, sorry, I didn’t mean to say that! That was rude! But please don’t eat me!”

The creature laughed, a high-pitched little giggle that was so unexpected that Abigail couldn’t help laughing too. Suddenly they were both guffawing, laughing so hard Abigail had to grab the subway bench to keep from doubling over. The laughter went on and on, echoing off the tiled walls of the tunnel.

When she finally was able to stop and catch her breath, she wiped her watering eyes and looked up. Her jaw dropped. The giant snake? Lizard? Thing? had uncoiled in his laughter, and his tail had popped out of the cave. His tail was long, maybe twenty feet, covered with dirty scales, and at the end was a triangle of thick scales like a fingernail. He was sitting up on his back legs a bit; he had two little arms with clawed feet and was so tall his head almost touched the ceiling of the tiny cave. He was holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

“You’re a dinosaur.”

“Excuse me? I am not.” He looked offended. “Well, I don’t think I am. I’m fairly certain that I’m distantly related to the Deinonychus, and I believe I share a common ancestor with the pterosaurs; I may possibly be genetically   
related to the Agamidae family of lizards, specifically genus Draco, species volans, the flying lizards. However, they are only capable of gliding, not true flight as I am, and in point of fact, published research suggests that they are named after me, not the other way around, so I suspect my species developed first.”

“Draco...volans,” Abigail repeated faintly.

“Yes, of course,” he said. And with a twist of his tail, he slid out of his cave, unwinding and stretching until he was completely free, arching over her, his claws scratching the ground, his tail flipping back and forth, and suddenly unfolding over her head, wings.

She stopped breathing.

“Draco volans,” it repeated. “Frequently known as the common flying dragon.” 

“Oh,” Abigail said, as she collapsed to the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

“Wake up! Please wake up! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m so sorry!” Abigail blinked. Her hand had landed in something sticky, and she pulled it from the filthy floor with a grimace. She rubbed her eyes with her clean hand. The thing--the dragon, she corrected herself--was looking down at her, his eyes wide with concern. She scooted back and quickly stood up.

“Are you all right?” His voice was odd, deep and with an accent she couldn’t place.

“Um, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you,” she added politely. The etiquette her mother had taught her suddenly came back to her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, sticking out her hand and trying not to look scared. He looked at her hand nervously, his head tipped to the side in a way that reminded her of a cat. Slowly, uncertainly, he stuck out his hand--Paw? Foot?--and gently, carefully, they shook hands.

“You’re warm!” Abigail exclaimed. His skin was dry and scaly like a lizard, but she had expected him to be cold.

“Yes, I’m warm blooded. Technically, I’m mesothermic, not endothermic, but that’s a bit of an odd, poorly understood distinction that will require further research.”

“What?”

“My apologies. It’s been so very, very long since I’ve spoken to anyone.” He looked as if he were searching for the correct thing to say. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Formally, he stuck out his hand, and Abigail took it, and they shook hands again.

“Err, didn’t we already do this?” she asked, and then they were both giggling again, the tension broken.

“I’m Abigail,” she said. “What’s your name?”

He frowned. “I’m the book dragon.”

“Huh? The what?”

“The book dragon. I like books. Most of your legends tell of dragons that sit on a hoard of gold, but I prefer books. They’re so much more comfortable.”

“But what’s your name?”

“Err, I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a name? What did your mom and dad call you?” Was that a rude thing to ask a dragon? Did he even have parents? Surely he did.

“I don’t know; when my egg hatched, I was by myself.”

“Your...egg?” Abigail took a deep breath. The thought of a real dragon’s egg with a real dragon in it was almost too much. ‘Focus,’ she told herself.

“Well, I have to call you something! Do you have a name you like?”

“I’ve no idea. I’ve never thought about it.” He shifted, sitting on his back legs and tucking his front ones underneath his chest so he was lower down, closer to her height. It made the thick muscles in his chest and arms bulge. The tip of his tail waved in the air, reminding her again of an overgrown cat. A very big, very strong cat.

“Hmm. How about Fortitude?”

“Fortitude?”

“Yeah, fortitude. It means ‘strength and courage in adversity.’ I learned it at the library.” His eyes widened with interest. They were a yellow brown that looked like darkened honey.

“The library?”

Eventually, Abigail and Fortitude got comfortable enough that she sat back down on the dirty bench and he relaxed his tail onto the floor. He told her that he was from Egypt and that he was over two thousand years old.  
“Well, that’s not very impressive. I just turned twelve,” she said, joking. “You’re practically a baby.” He giggled, showing off a set of fangs that were considerably cleaner than his scales. Abigail shivered at the sight.

“I am still quite young, I think. My species appears to live far longer than yours does.”

“I guess so. You’ve really been here since the subway was built?” She had no idea how old the subway system was, but it was definitely pretty old.

“Roughly, yes. This cave is generally undisturbed, and I am safer down here.”

“I only moved here like a month ago.” She told him about her mom’s new job, and their apartment, and Ruby. He was fascinated by her description of the public library.

“It sounds glorious,” he breathed when she told him about the huge reading room.

“It’s really pretty awesome,” she agreed.

Abigail’s stomach growled, and she realized that she was starving. She checked her phone and saw that it was after lunch; they’d been talking all morning. Also, she didn’t have any phone signal.  
“Shoot, my dad is gonna freak out! I told him I’d text him like two hours ago!” She jumped off the bench. “Are you hungry? I’ve got to get some lunch.” She hated to leave--what if he wasn’t there when she came back?

“I do not eat as often as you do, but I am a bit peckish. Perhaps I should find some sustenance.” He looked a bit sad. “You are leaving?”

“I’ll come back! I mean, if you want me to.”

“That would be most lovely,” Fortitude said. “Quite honestly, I haven’t talked to anyone in such a long time. And even then, most of your people were scared of me.”

“Well, you are pretty big. And you have wings. And fangs. But you seem nice. Hey, what do you eat? Do you sneak out or something?”

“Oh no! I stay down here. There are rats and other small mammals in the sewers, and some of the deeper tunnels have refuse and small canals that sweep trash through them. I can find something to eat.” Abigail’s nose wrinkled.

“Gross. Do you like that stuff?” The dragon shrugged.

“It is adequate. I admit, there was a time when I ate somewhat more palatable foodstuffs. I was very partial to apricots when I was young.”

“Well, there’s a smoothie place right down the street. I think they sell fruit. Want me to get you something? I’ve got my allowance money.”

“Are you sure? I understand that humans your age do not often have professions like they did some years ago. I do not wish for you to spend your money on me.”

“Professions? Like jobs? Yeah, kids don’t work anymore, unless maybe they’re teenagers. I wanna be a biologist or maybe a doctor, so I want to try to get a job in a science lab when I’m in high school, but I’m not allowed to yet. But my mom and dad give me an allowance, so it’s fine. I’ll totally bring you something so you don’t have to eat a rat or whatever. That’s just disgusting.”  
She darted up to Fortitude and patted him on the neck. He jumped a bit in surprise, but then smiled and sort of rubbed his cheek against her arm.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Abigail got a banana and a smoothie to split--stuff was so expensive here! Her allowance only went so far. ‘I need to ask for a raise,’ she thought. She wondered if her parents would give her more. Her mom’s new job paid more than her old one, and she knew the university was helping pay for their apartment too, but she had heard her mom and dad talking before they moved about how much more expensive the rent would be than at their old house, even though their house was two stories and had a big yard.

She missed her yard. It had an old playset her dad had put together when she was a kid, and when James got big enough, her mom let her push him on the swing if she was careful not to push too hard. He only fell off once, and he laughed when he bounced off the dirt instead of crying. Her dad had pulled it to pieces before they moved and hauled it to the dump. He said it was too old and rickety to stay with the house when they sold it--the next kids to live there would have to get a new one. But she had watched him out the window when he took it apart. First he stood out in the yard for a long time, just staring at the swings she and James had played on. Then he began disassembling it. He had a hammer and a crowbar, something she didn’t even know they owned, and he started out slowly, prying out nails and pulling the pieces of wood apart. Then he started going faster, tearing it down. Ripping it to pieces. When the swings fell to the ground and he started hitting them with the crowbar, slamming it into the dirt and crying, she turned away and stopped watching, but she could hear him sobbing even inside the house. Her mom was in the bathroom, and she didn’t come out until her dad drove away, hauling the pile of broken wood and demolished joy to the dump.

A dragon. A dragon. A real, actual dragon in the subway. It was insane. Even as she handed her money to the cashier, she thought, ‘He’s going to be gone. I’m going to get back down there and nobody’s going to be there, because dragons aren’t real.

But he was.


	10. Chapter 10

Abigail hardly noticed that Ruby spent three whole days on vacation with her dad and mom before he left on his India trip. Abigail had expected to spend most of it sitting in her room. Instead, she spent it with her new friend. Her dragon friend.

The day after she met him, it had taken her a few minutes of wandering around the subway station to figure out which tunnel she had run down the day before. She had a heart-stopping moment where she turned down one too many dark tunnels and suddenly thought she was lost in the dark, and then she heard a shifting, slithering sound, and she whispered, “Fort?”

“Abigail?” came the just-as-frightened return whisper.

“Thank goodness!” she said. “I thought I was lost!”

Fort stepped out of the shadow he was tucked away in. “I did not think you would come back.” He smiled shyly. “I am glad you did.”

“Of course I came back! Are you kidding? Look, I brought stuff.” She pulled open her backpack and showed him a couple of apples, two bags of chips, and two bottles of water that she had snuck out of the fridge.

“Thank you very much,” Fort said formally. He settled down on his haunches, large eyes blinking in the dimness.

“You are most welcome,” Abigail replied as if she were speaking to a queen. “You talk really funny, you know that?” Fort tipped his head to one side.

“Do I? It has been so long since I spoke with any humans. The last time I had a conversation, it was in Old Franconian in the twelfth century. I spoke to a young man who accidentally wandered into the cave I had been sleeping in. It was a very brief conversation, and he may not have understood my accent, because he ran away screaming.” Abigail blinked.

“Um, okay. That’s kind of understandable, I guess. You are a dragon, after all.”

“And you are an uncommonly brave young lady,” he said.

“Well, I just moved here, and I don’t know anybody except my one friend, Ruby, so I guess I might as well hang out with a giant lizard.” She giggled.

“I am not a lizard,” Fort said defensively.

She sat down next to him, pulling her phone out of her pocket so it wouldn’t get smushed. “I know, you’re a dragon. Definitely better than a big lizard. And you’re good company, even if nobody would ever believe me if I told them about you.”

“What is that cube?” Fort asked, poking a claw at her phone.

“It’s my cell phone. I guess those probably weren’t around in the twelfth century, huh? It’s for talking to people, or texting. That’s kind of like writing letters, but they’re really short.” She poked at her phone’s blank screen. “There’s no connection down here; we’re too far underground, I guess. It doesn’t matter anyway. Nobody calls me.” She realized she felt a little bit grateful--being down in the tunnel meant she had a good excuse for not getting any texts from Lacy or any of her other friends.

“I have occasionally spied on the people riding the loud trains, and I have seen many of them holding those machines. Cell phones,” he pronounced carefully, as if committing it to memory. “Yours does not work?”

“It does, but not underground. And I used to use it a lot, but since I moved, none of my friends call me anymore. It’s only been a few weeks since I moved, and they already forgot about me.”

“I doubt that. It has been two millennia, but I still remember Rane. He was a librarian at the Great Library, and he brought me fruit sometimes. It seems odd that I’ve only been here a hundred years, but so much has changed in the world.”

“Only a hundred years!”

“Only a moment for me. I lived with the Franks in what is now Germany for hundreds of years; before that I lived in Oxyrhynchus, which was a wonderful city.”

“Oxy-what?”

“Oxy-rin-kus, in Egypt. It wasn’t far from Alexandria, where I was born. After I...had to leave Alexandria, I flew down there and buried myself in the sand outside of the city. It’s warm there, and lovely. There were canals full of fish, and the city had a large garbage dump. I was afraid of living in it at first, because it was all full of paper, but I was able to take bits and pieces that no one wanted and build a small hoard deep under one of the dumps. They threw away tax receipts, poetry by Homer, political treatises, and all sorts of wonderful things. It was lovely, and safe. I stayed there for many centuries, under the sand.”

Abigail couldn’t imagine living that long. “Centuries? Under sand? Don’t you get...bored?” She could hardly fathom it.

“Sometimes. But I slept for many hundreds of years; I am able to hibernate, I think you would call it. I can go dormant and go without food for long periods of time. It is harder now, though--the world used to be much quieter, before your people invented cars.” Abigail laughed.

“Yeah, I guess it probably was.” She could see some old newspapers and stuff pushed over by the wall where Fort had been hidden in the dark. “Are you collecting garbage or something? What’s all that stuff for?”  
Fort looked embarrassed, and his tail swept the newspapers and old posters into a pile, tucking them neatly behind his back legs, hidden away.

“That is my hoard. It’s all old though, it’s all trash, so it can’t get hurt!” he added suddenly, looking nervous, as if Abigail might get angry.

“Okay? I’m sure it’s fine. A hoard, huh? I read Lord of the Rings last year. Didn’t that dragon hoard gold?”

“I believe that is a common fable among your people. However, I have no interest in gold. I told you, I am a book dragon,” Fort said proudly. Then he looked ashamed for a moment and added, “Or at least, an old newspaper dragon. Either way, this is my hoard, and I take care of it. I read the papers people leave behind. They are usually newspapers, although there are fewer of those now that you all carry those cell phones around. Sometimes there are those shiny magazines, and once in a while, a book someone has discarded. I only take the old ones though! Never any that I could damage.” He looked proud of himself. “They are how I learned to speak English.” 

“Oh, is that why you talk like a textbook?” Abigail laughed. “That makes sense.” Abigail pulled her notebook out of her pocket and sat down on the floor. She flipped it open. “Um, do you mind if I draw you?”

“Draw me?”

“Yeah, like a picture. I won’t show anybody, I promise. I just like to draw, and you are, like, amazing.” She smiled. “See, I draw a lot when I’m bored.” She flipped her book open to the picture of Janice’s long braids, and one of Ruby reading on a couch in the library. “That’s my friend Ruby. She’s out of town right now, but she’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You are a very good artist,” Fort said. Abigail blushed. “I would be extremely flattered to have you draw me. I have never seen a picture of myself.”

“Seriously? Well, I’m not very good, but at least I can do scales okay. My friend Lacy back home had a pet snake.” She sketched a quick picture of his tail, brushing through the dust and bits of newspapers on the ground, and Fort’s eyes grew wide when he saw it.

“My tail,” he breathed. He wrapped it around himself, giving the end an affectionate hug. “Can you do my horns?”


	11. Chapter 11

On the third day, Abigail found her way to Fort’s hideaway easily. A security officer glanced at her as she was walking through the subway, but she darted behind a column until he looked away, then slipped down the stairs and through the tunnels to his little cave.

“I brought sandwiches. Do you like turkey? I brought apples too. My mom thinks I’ve suddenly become a fruit addict because I keep putting oranges and nectarines on the grocery list.” She held out an apple, and Fort plucked it from her hand, careful not to scratch her with his claws.

“Thank you, Miss Abigail.”

“No problem.” She picked at her sandwich. “Ugh, it’s all cold. I like it better toasted.” She took a bite gingerly, making a face.

“You do not like the sandwich?”

“I like turkey, but it’s better when it’s warm. It’s always kinda slimy when it’s cold.” Fort looked at the sandwich carefully.

“What’s wrong?” Abigail asked.

“I could heat it for you if you like, maybe.” He sounded uncertain. She raised her eyebrows. “But I’m not sure,” he added. “Probably not. Actually, certainly not. It’s better cold, I’m sure.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Do you have a toaster down here or something?”

“Err, no.” He looked like he wished he’d never said anything. “I am a toaster, so to speak.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself, and suddenly, he pointed at cleanish spot on the floor near his feet. “Put it over there and step far back. I am not sure if this will work.” Abigail had no idea what he meant, but she laid her lunchbag on the floor and put the sandwich on top of it, then skittered back away. “Do not move,” Fort ordered. “I have not done this in many years, but you have been so kind to me.”

Abigail stared as Fort looked at the sandwich as if it were going to bite him. He closed his eyes, took a small breath, clicked his teeth together, and blew.

A jet of flame arched from his mouth, lighting up the whole tunnel, and Abigail gasped. Fort aimed it up in the air, well away from her sandwich, and squeezed his mouth almost closed. The flame narrowed and got smaller, and Fort seemed to relax a bit, controlling it until it was just a small line of fire in the air, no wider than her fingers. He moved his head down, bringing the flame lower and lower, until it hovered just above her sandwich. He held it there carefully, and the bread gently grew warm and brown.

“Tell me when,” Fort managed to say out the side of his mouth.

“That’s perfect!” Abigail breathed, astonished. Fort stopped blowing, and the flame went out. “Oh my gosh, that was amazing! How come you never told me you could do that?” She scooped up her sandwich, and it was warm and crisp in her hands. She took a huge bite, then turned to Fort and threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you can actually make fire.”

Fort was tense under her arms, then relaxed and put one sharp claw gently around her. “I am glad you like it. I have not done that in a very, very long time.”  
Abigail slid down Fort’s scaled side and sat on the floor, scarfing down her sandwich.

“Why not? That’s awesome! I’d be toasting stuff every day. Don’t you like your rats and stuff warmed up?”

Fort looked haunted for a moment, his eyes fixed on the far wall of the tunnel. “Fire is dangerous.”

“Well, yeah, but still! That was freaking amazing.”

“I am glad you like it. You have been so kind to me.” He nudged her with his head affectionately.

“Well, you’re my friend!” Suddenly, she jumped up. “That reminds me! I brought you a present!”

“A present?”

“Yeah, I figured you must be super bored down here all the time, so I brought some entertainment.” She yanked open her backpack and pulled out something wrapped awkwardly in flowered wrapping paper. “Sorry, I’m not very good at wrapping presents.” Fort’s eyes were huge.

“I have never gotten a present before.”

“Seriously? Well here you go.” Fort cradled the rectangular package as if it were a baby. He delicately insinuated one claw under the tape and pulled it free. He pulled back the paper as Abigail watched excitedly. “Come on, pull it open!”

As he ripped the paper off, the excitement on his face suddenly turned to horror. “It’s a book!” he shouted in fear. He flung it away and it flew at Abigail as he skittered back into his cave and hid.

“Fort!” she shouted, throwing her hands up to keep the book from hitting her in the face. It fell to the floor and she scooped it up. “What the heck? I thought you liked books!” She took a hitching breath, suddenly angry. She had picked out a book about modern Egypt, thinking he’d like to see how his home had changed. She had bought it with her own money and snuck the wrapping paper and tape out of the closet while were parents were in bed. “I thought you’d like it!”

There was silence from the dark cave.

“Fine, whatever! Stay in there then!” She grabbed her backpack and threw it on. “I’m leaving!”

“I do like books.” It was so quiet she could hardly hear him.

She glared into the darkness of the cave.

“Yeah?”

“I like books. I love them. They’re the best thing ever. The best thing in the world.” She heard a strange gasping sound.

“Are you crying?” Fort slowly slid out of the cave so she could see his miserable face. There were no tears in his reptilian eyes, but he was breathing heavily and his head was hanging down.

“Please take it away. I don’t want to hurt it.” Abigail was confused.

“The book?”

“It’s made of paper.” She scrunched her face up.

“Paper?” Suddenly her eyes lit on the paper bag she had set her sandwich on, still on the floor and singed around the edges where Fort’s flame had caught it. She looked back at Fort, staring at the blackened bag with grief. Abigail walked over to Fort and hugged him.

“I’ll burn it,” he whispered in her ear.

“Why would you burn it?”

“Not on purpose. But by accident.” He took a deep breath. “It happened before.”

“You burned a book?”

“I burned a library.”

Fort had told her about his home. The heat of Egypt, the amazing stars in the black sky when he snuck out at night to stretch his wings (“I have not seen them in many years, and this city has so many bright lights. How can you see any at all?”), the flavors of apricot and cinnamon in warm lentils. This time, he told her about the library. How huge is was, how the librarians had found his egg hidden under the floorboards in the main reading room and watched it for weeks, wondering what it was, until he hatched out of it. He looked so homesick, and then his eyelids started slipping back and forth.

“Whoa, sorry, but what is going on with your eyes? Are you okay?” He blinked carefully a few times.

“It is my nictitating membrane.”

“Your what?”

“Nictitating membrane. I do not exactly make tears like you do--I cannot cry. But I have two eyelids, and the inner one is clear and covers my eyes for protection. When I am sad, it slides over my eyes to protect them, as if I were crying.”

“Oh, Fort. I’m so sorry.” She patted his side.

“Anyhow, I had to leave.” He took a deep breath. “I made a fire once, by accident. I got surprised by one of the librarians--Rane, the one who was the nicest--and he was shouting at me about leaving, and he pushed me, and I fell over and accidentally made a spark, and it caught the scrolls on fire. They burned, and I flew.” He stopped speaking, hanging his head in shame. “It was the greatest library in the world, full of thousands and thousands of scrolls, hundreds of scientists and philosophers, and every kind of amazing thing. Eratosthenes and Hypatia gave lectures on mathematics, and I even met Ptolemy once, when I was very young.”

“Tole-eh-mee? Who’s that?”

“Ptolemy was a great general who ruled Egypt. But more importantly, he created my library. I was hardly out of my egg, just a baby, really, when he came to visit. He was an old man, with curly white hair. Everyone was gathered in the great Reading Room, which was all decorated with palm fronds, and they were all dressed up in their best robes. I snuck in and hid in the back, and then he arrived. The creator of the Royal Library of Alexandria, and my home. He was glorious.”

After Fort told her about the library burning, he subsided into silence, laying his down on his front legs sadly. Abigail sat next to him, leaning against his neck. Fort sighed heavily.  
“I guess this subway isn’t quite as fancy as living in your own library,” Abigail said.

“It is not. But I cannot hurt any books here,” Fort said. He gave a small smile. “And I have a name here. The librarians were very kind, and they let me read as many scrolls as I wanted, but they were not my friends. I am grateful to you for that.”

“Well, everyone’s got to have a name. I’m named after Abigail Adams. She was the first Second Lady of the United States, and the second First Lady. Which is about right.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was the wife of the first vice-president of the United States, and then he got to be president after George Washington, so she was the second First Lady, after Martha Washington. My mom is a history teacher, so she made me learn all about them.” Abigail sighed. “But I just mean that I feel like I’m always in second place. Even though I’m the oldest in my family. Or I was. I had a little brother, but he died a couple of years ago. Ever since, it’s like my parents don’t even see me. Like, my brother takes up all the space in the house, and he’s not even there.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s so selfish. I feel like such a jerk. I miss him so much.”

Fort nudged her with his head. “I am sorry about your brother. I have never had a family member to lose, but I know what it is like to be left behind. Sometimes you feel like you could just disappear and no one would even notice.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, that’s it exactly. Everyone back home stopped even seeing me. They just saw the girl with the dead brother. It’s like I don’t even exist any more.” They sat in silence for a long time. Then Fort looked at her with his big eyes.

“I see you, Abigail.” She smiled.

“I see you too, Fort.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey, can you help me look something up? I want to find something out.” Ruby was finally back from her long weekend. Her dad had just left for a month, and she was quieter than usual. Abigail had bought her a frappucino to cheer her up. She had thought about nothing but her dragon for four days, and she was a little ashamed at how little she had thought about her friend. ‘But how often do you meet a dragon?’ she thought.

“Sure, what, are you doing homework before school even starts or something?” Ruby teased.

“No, I just, um, saw something on tv and I wanted to find out about it. Have you ever heard of the Great Library at Alexandria?”

“Um, no. Where’s that? In Virginia? I can ask my mom.”

“No!” Abigail almost yelled. “I mean, no, it’s not in Virginia. We can look it up ourselves, I think. It’s really old, from a long, long time ago. It was in Egypt.” She hadn’t told Ruby about Fortitude yet. She just couldn’t figure out how to without sounding like a complete nutjob. ‘While you were gone for the weekend, I found a pet dragon! He likes smoothies and is afraid of paper, and he lives in the subway.’ Yeah, no way would that work.  
Ruby sat down at one of the computers and searched for “Great Library Alexandria.” To Abigail’s surprise, it came up instantly. And there were a lot of books listed about it. A lot. Ruby wrote down the shelf number on a piece of paper. “I know where this is. It’s history, upstairs.”

They ran up the marble staircase, and Ruby led her along the racks, looking up at the numbers. “Here it is. There’s a bunch of books about it.”

Abigail pulled _The History of the Greatest Library in the World_ down and flipped through it. “Wow, it was big,” she said, looking at a sketch that showed dozens of buildings surrounded by walking paths overlooking a lovely port full of ships. “This says it was like the first college campus, with tons of buildings and stuff. They did research and philosophy there, like a school, and had like a hundred thousand books! Geez! And they had a zoo!” Ruby looked at the book over her shoulder.

__“Cool. That’s pretty neat. I didn’t know people had all that stuff back then.”_ _

__Abigail flipped toward the end and gasped. There was a drawing of a huge room full of shelves of paper scrolls--papyruses, she remembered Fort saying--and they were all on fire. “It burned,” she said. “The whole library burned down.”_ _

__“Seriously?”_ _

__“Yeah. He really did burn it down,” Abigail said without thinking, then hoped Ruby wouldn’t notice._ _

__“Who? Caesar?” Ruby asked._ _

__“Who?”_ _

__***  
Abigail pored over the book, with Ruby helping her look up the big words on one of the library computers. As she sat curled into the plush couch with the book on her lap, Ruby pecking out questions about what ancient Egyptians ate and when Ptolemy the First died, Abigail gnawed at her lip. Ruby would think she was insane. Completely, totally insane. She might even call the police or something._ _

__“I’ve got a secret. A big one.” The words spilled out before she could stop them, and Ruby jerked her head up from the computer. “Seriously?”_ _

__“Um, yeah.” Abigail instantly regretted saying anything. Ruby was going to call her a nutso and never hang out with her again. Ruby jumped up from the computer and threw herself down on the couch, leaning against Abigail._ _

__Ruby’s eyes glittered. “Dude, you know I want to know!” She grinned._ _

__“No, this is a real secret. Not an ‘I like a boy’ or ‘My dad secretly reads dirty magazines’ secret.”_ _

__“Eww!”_ _

__“Shut up, you know what I mean. This is a for-real, can’t-tell-anyone, not-even-your-best-friend secret.” Abby grabbed Ruby’s hand and squeezed it, suddenly solemn.  
Ruby smiled just a little, the real smile that was so different from her usual big grin. “Well, that’s fine, because you’re my best friend.” Abby’s mouth fell open and she dropped Ruby’s hand. Ruby immediately blushed and looked away.“I mean, you know, here. You’re my best friend in the neighborhood. I’ve got my old friends too.” Abby bit her lip and smiled._ _

__“You’re my best friend too.” Ruby’s eyes widened. “I didn’t want to say anything in case you were still best friends with Angie.”_ _

__“She hasn’t called me in a month.” Abby sighed sympathetically._ _

__“Lacy hasn’t texted me in two weeks.” They looked at each other sadly, then simultaneously grinned._ _

__“Yay!” they said, and threw their arms around each other. It was the first time anyone had hugged Abby besides her parents since they moved._ _

__When they parted, Ruby shoved Abby gently with her shoulder. “So, what’s the secret? I promise I won’t tell anyone. Unless you need the police. Are you okay?”_ _

__Abby grinned. “You’re never gonna believe it. I’m going to have to show you. We have to go for a little walk. Into the subway.”_ _

__“On a train?”_ _

__“No, just into the tunnels.”_ _

__“Huh?”_ _

__***  
“Are you ready?”_ _

__“This place is gross.”_ _

__“Yeah, I know, it’s dirty. But don’t worry about it. You’re gonna forget all about it in about thirty seconds.”_ _

__“I seriously doubt I’m going to forget you dragging me into some nasty subway tunnel to look at a bunch of trash where we’re probably going to get arrested.”_ _

__Abigail grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Trust me.”_ _

__Then Abigail’s secret slithered out of his cave and said, “Hello, Ruby. You must be Abigail’s friend.”_ _

__The look on Ruby’s face was priceless._ _

__***  
“He’s a dragon.”_ _

__“I know. You’ve said that like twenty times.”_ _

__“A dragon. A dragon dragon.” Ruby’s glasses were sliding off her nose, and she was clutching Abigail’s hand. They were standing well back from Fort, who was curled up nervously in his cave. Abigail could see his nictitating membrane sliding back and forth, and she knew he was upset about scaring Ruby._ _

__“I know. Chill out. He’s super nice.”_ _

__“A nice dragon. Yeah. That makes sense.”_ _

__“I promise. Come on, you’re freaking him out.”_ _

__“I’m freaking him out?!” Ruby looked incredulous.__

______“Miss Rubira?” Fort said quietly, and Ruby jumped._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You told him my name?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Of course! Geez, just say hi!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ruby cleared her throat. “Um, hi.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hello,” Fort said. “It is very nice to meet you. Abigail has told me so much about you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“She did? I mean, that’s nice. It’s, um, nice to meet you too.” Abigail pushed her forward, and Fort slowly slid out of his cave. Ruby froze at the sight of his long claws, but Abby shoved her toward him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shake hands!” she hissed._ _ _ _ _ _

______Eyes wide, Ruby stuck out her hand, and Fort smiled, showing far too many fangs. Ruby was brave, though, and she held still as he gently took her hand and shook it without scratching her at all.  
“It’s nice to meet you too,” she said, relaxing a little. “Are you really a dragon?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Fort grinned. “It appears that I really am,” he said, flicking his long tail over his head, making Ruby gasp. “The only dragon in New York,” he added. “I am quite unique.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Huh,” Ruby said. There was an old subway map on the wall just behind Fort, and it caught her eye. “So, you, um, live down here? In the subway?” Ruby asked._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Yes, I live in this cave for the most part, but over the years, I have explored most of your tunnel system. It is quite impressive; there are many old stations that are unused, and occasionally I sleep in them just for a change of pace.” He glanced at the map. “Your subway system is very useful for hiding a dragon in, although I suspect the designers did not anticipate that.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Ruby couldn’t help laughing. “You hear all those stories about us having alligators in the sewers, but a dragon in the subway is not one I’ve ever heard before!”_ _ _ _ _ _


	13. Chapter 13

“How did you find him?” Ruby asked when they finally tore themselves away from Fort and left to walk home. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Kinda.” Abigail flipped her phone around in her hand uncomfortably. “You were gone with your dad, and I was just kinda walking around the neighborhood. I found your old school!” She pulled up the picture she had taken of the sign for St. Mary’s Academy. “And then I ran into those girls, the ones you said were such jerks?” She kicked at the sidewalk. “They were in an alley around the corner, and I kinda walked up on them without realizing it, and they got super mad. I accidentally snapped a picture of that blonde one, the really snotty one?”

“Genevieve?”

“Yeah, her. Check it out.” Abigail flipped to the picture of Genevieve, Genna’s face a mask of rage, with the handmade cigarette in one hand and a rock in the other.

“Whoa,” Ruby breathed. “Is that marijuana?”

“Yeah. She was pissed. They freaked out when I took the picture, and they started chasing me, so I ran down the stairs to the subway, and I got lost and just kinda ran into Fort by accident.”

“That’s crazy. No wonder she was mad.” Ruby grabbed the phone, zooming in on the picture. “St. Mary’s has a zero tolerance policy for drugs. She would totally get kicked out if anybody saw this. Her mom would be pissed.”

“Yeah, I figured. Thank god I haven’t seen them since then--she’s gotta know that I still have the picture.”

***  
After that, hanging out with Fort took up all their time. Ruby would walk to the library with her mom in the mornings, dropping baby Samira at daycare on the way. Then Abigail would meet her, and they would make sure that Ruby’s mom saw them walking around the library. Sometimes they chatted with the security guards or played with the little kids in the Children’s Reading Room so that people would see them in the library. But as soon as they could get away, they would sneak out and run down to the subway to see Fort. They would hang out with him for as long as they could, Ruby entertaining Abigail and Fort with stories about growing up in the city. “When I was little, I used to name the rats that hung around our stoop. I thought they were my pets and used to feed them. My mom would get mad. ‘Every rat in the city is gonna be hanging out on our stoop!’ she would say.”

“Super gross!” Abigail crowed.

“They’re really smart!” Ruby protested. “You can totally train them to do stuff!” Fort looked horrified.

“Rats are intelligent? But I’ve eaten so many of them!”

“Dude, eat all the rats you want,” Abigail laughed. “The fewer there are, the better!”

At lunchtime, they would run back to the library to check in with Ruby’s mom so she would think they had spent the whole morning at the library. “We’re gonna go hang out at the park!” Ruby would chirp. She was a shockingly good liar. Ruby had started bringing snacks for Fort too, so she and Abigail would make a picnic on the subway floor. They eventually brought down an old blanket Abigail found in a moving box so they’d have something clean to sit on, and Ruby dug up some candles.

The first time she pulled them out of her bag, Fort’s reared back in fear. “No, I can’t!” he protested.

“You totally can! Remember my sandwich?” Abby encouraged him. She petted his neck, stroking the warm, smooth scales until he relaxed. “Check this out,” she told Ruby. “You’re gonna love it.” Fort took careful aim, his tail placed in between the girls and the candles so they couldn’t get burned, and made fire.

“Awesome,” Ruby whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Abigail’s phone pinged.  
'Are you going to the school registration thing?' It was Ruby. Abigail texted back quickly.

'What registration thing?' She felt queasy at the thought of starting a new school. It was going to be huge and awful.

'Next week--we’re supposed to go get ugly PE uniforms or something, and I think sign up for band instruments. I am going to be AWFUL. I failed singing class in kindergarten because my voice is so bad.' Abigail laughed.

***  
“Hey, Mom,” Abigail started. Her mom was reading a book at the table during dinner, something boring about colonial American printing presses. Her dad was eating by the window, looking out at the street.

“Yeah, honey?” she asked absently, flipping a page.

“Do you know there’s some school registration thing we’re supposed to go to next week?” Her mom looked up, then grabbed her phone and pulled up her calendar.

“Yeah, I’ve got it on here. I’m not teaching that afternoon, so I’ll take you.”

“Cool. Um, I need some new clothes for school. Could we go shopping too?” Abigail looked down at her plate, waiting for her mom to say she was too busy to do both. Maybe she could borrow some money and just go with Ruby.

Her mom looked up from her book again. “Shopping?” She glanced at Abigail’s old tee shirt and shorts. “That’s a good idea! You probably do need some new stuff. New city, new clothes, new life, right?” Abigail raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Um, yeah. And, um…” She leaned closer to her mom and whispered. “Can I get, um, like, some bras?” Her mom’s eyes widened.

“That’s a good idea,” she said quietly. “You’re getting so mature. It’s probably time for that sort of thing.” She smiled and spoke in a normal tone. “And I know exactly where to go!” Her dad looked over from the window at his wife’s excitement. “I’m taking Abby shopping!” she said cheerfully. “At Macy’s!”

***  
“Are you ready, Abby?” her mom called, grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter. “Bye, Phil!” she called shortly.

“You look nice, Bethie,” Abigail’s dad said tentatively. He was on the couch with a laptop. Abigail’s mom’s name was Elizabeth; he was the only person who called Abigail’s mom Bethie. Abby looked up in surprise; she hadn’t heard him call her that in a long time. Her mom was dressed casually, not like she did for teacher, in jeans and a silky teeshirt. Her long, brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. “You and Abby look so much alike.”

“Why, thank you,” her mom said, looking surprised. Her expression softened. “I hope you get some good writing done while we’re gone.”

Abigail had assumed they would walk, but when they got down to the sidewalk, her mom said, “Let’s take a cab!”

“Really?” She hadn’t ever been in a taxi, although she’d gotten good at dodging in between them at the streetlights.

The taxi driver jounced in and out of traffic, zipping back and forth between other cars, big trucks, and bicyclists with a fury that nearly made her throw up. “I am never being a taxi driver when I grow up,” she muttered, and her mom laughed. Thankfully the ride was brief, and they pulled up in front of Macy’s.

It was the biggest store Abigail had ever seen. 

She climbed out of the taxi, the novelty of taking a cab instantly paling as she looked up at the storefront.

“Wow,” she said.

“Isn’t it amazing?” her mom asked. “It’s the biggest store in America, I think. Or pretty close to it.” She took Abigail’s hand and pulled her inside.

Inside, it looked more normal, like a regular store, just gigantic. There was section after section of clothes for babies, ladies, and men, swimsuits, snow clothes, everything you could want. Abigail stopped and stared in shock when she came to a small section filled with nothing but fur coats, with a man in a tuxedo playing a grand piano right in the middle. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and petting one of the coats. It was so soft.  
“I know it’s not very nice to turn animals into coats, but they sure do feel amazing, don’t they?” her mom asked with a smile. A really pretty woman in super high heels and a pair of designer jeans that Abby had seen ads for in magazines was trying on one of the coats, turning back and forth in front of a long mirror. The salesgirl hovering over her was almost as well dressed as she was. The woman looked vaguely familiar. “Do you think she’s an actress?” Abby’s mom whispered. Abigail tried not to stare. She looked down at the coat she was petting and saw the price tag sticking out from inside.

“Mom,” Abby hissed, dropping it like it burned her. “This jacket is ten thousand dollars!”

“Good lord, don’t touch it!” her mom giggled.

They made it to the girls section finally, up several escalators. Abigail wandered around, wondering what girls at some giant New York middle school wore. Ruby dressed about the same as she did, but she usually wore strappy sandals, not flip flops. And she had several little short jackets that she threw on over tank tops. Abigail found a similar selection and started flipping through the hangars.

“That’s cute, honey,” her mom said as she pulled out a glittery tank top and short jacket. “Look, there’s the underwear section.” There were about a million training bras hanging up next to the underwear and socks. Ugh. Abigail glanced around to see if anyone was watching while her mom started looking through them, saying, “Do you want pink? Oh, this one’s cute! How about yellow? I can’t believe you’re old enough for bras!”

“Mom!” Abigail shushed, her face red.

“Oh, sorry, honey.” Her mom pulled out several and put them in Abigail’s arms. She tried to cover them up with the tank top she was holding. “Let’s get some jeans, too. It’s gonna be getting cold soon, and your old ones are getting too short.”

They finally gathered a pile of clothes, and Abigail’s mom stood outside the dressing room door while she tried things on. “Let me see how it fits!” she chirped cheerfully.

Abigail pulled on one of the bras. ‘Ugh,’ she thought. ‘How do you get this on?’ There were so many straps and hooks. She couldn’t figure out which opening to put her arms through. ‘Stupid thing.’ She chucked it down and pulled on a better one that was just like a tight bathing suit top. ‘That’s not too bad.’ She pulled the glittery tank top over it, and threw on the short jacket. ‘Kinda cute,’ she thought to herself.

She pulled open the dressing room door. Her mom smiled widely. “Wow, you look great, honey! I love that! How’s the bra?”

“It’s fine. I didn’t like that other one. It was too weird. I couldn’t get it on.” Her mom laughed shortly.

“Some of them are like that.” She looked Abigail up and down for a moment, and suddenly her brown eyes filled with tears. “You look amazing, sweetie.”

“Mom?”

Her mom squeezed her eyes shut, and tears ran down her cheeks. Abigail stood frozen in the dressing room doorway as her mom cried. “Oh God, I’m sorry, honey. It’s just,” she choked, holding onto the edge of door frame. “You’re growing up. You’re getting older…and he’s not. Here I am, getting you your first bra and buying fancy stuff, and I’ll never get to buy James his first suit or see him go to the prom or any of that. He should be here.” Her mom was sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Abby. You look great. Get whatever you want.” Her mom turned and ran out of the dressing room.

Abigail shut the door and yanked off her outfit. She wanted to throw something. ‘At least you’re still around to buy clothes, instead of stuck in an urn under the bed in that stupid apartment,’ she berated herself. ‘Selfish.’ She threw her old clothes back on, scooped up a handful of bras, shirts, and jeans more or less at random, and just left the rest in a pile. “Sorry, I didn’t know what to do with that stuff,” she muttered at a saleswoman as she fled from the dressing room. When she came out, her mom was looking through a rack of necklaces, her eyes red, but a cheery grin plastered on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes.

“All done? Here, look, I found some cute jewelry you might like!”

They pretended everything was fine for the rest of the afternoon.


	15. Chapter 15

“Are you ready?” her mom asked.

“Definitely not,” Abigail said, staring up at the building. P.S. 427, Eleanor Roosevelt Middle School, was four stories tall, old, and looked like it was going to swallow her whole. “It’s so big,” she said.

“I promise it’ll be okay,” her mom said, squeezing her hand. Abigail let her, then quickly let go when a group of other moms with their kids walked by, chattering excitedly.

“Aren’t your feet hot?” her mom asked, looking down at her black boots with fancy silver straps wrapped around them. They were extremely hot--it was about ninety-five degrees, and Abigail felt like her feet were about to melt into a puddle.

“They’re fine.” Heck if she was gonna wear her flip-flops to her middle school registration. She nervously brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Come on, let’s do this!”  
She followed her mom through the big doors of the school, joining the crush of other nervous-looking sixth graders and a handful of seventh and eighth graders who looked practically like adults compared to her.

“Welcome to middle school!” a woman in a nice suit said loudly, standing on a stage in the auditorium. “We are so happy to see you here at Eleanor Roosevelt Middle School! We know you’re gonna love it here!” Abigail tried not to listen to her, craning her neck to see if Ruby was anywhere nearby. She checked out the other kids--most of them looked as nervous as she was, which made her feel a little better. Suddenly she saw Ruby, way on the other side of the auditorium. She tried to catch her eye, but Ruby hadn’t seen her yet.

“If your last name starts with A through M, please go to the band room on the second floor to sign up for your instrument. If your last name is N through Z, stay here for PE uniforms! Be sure to fill out your paperwork and turn it in before you leave!” The crowd surged to its feet, everyone shuffling around, kids who knew each other yelling greetings. Abigail jumped up, waving toward Ruby, who finally saw her.

“Mom, there’s Ruby! Ruby!” They weaved through the crowd and finally grabbed each other.

“This place is a madhouse!” Ruby looked terrified. “St. Mary’s was so much smaller!”

“I know, what the heck? How are we ever going to find our way around?” Ruby leaned close and whispered in her ear.

“We need Fort! He could just roar and everyone would get out of our way!” Abigail giggled.

“Come on, girls, let’s go up to the band room!” Abigail was glad that since her last name was Hart and Ruby’s was Brooke, they could go through the registration lines together.  
There were stacks of maps of the school lying in piles on several tables, and Abigail grabbed one and jammed it in her pocket. The school was huge. Her old school had only been a couple of hundred kids, and it was only one story tall. ‘At least I’ll be in good shape, running up and down these stairs all day,’ she thought. One of the counselors had filled her arms with papers and guidebooks, and he dropped her schedule on the top. She had three classes with Ruby, thank God. They had locker assignments--lockers! Spinning the lock around to the numbers written on the little slip of paper they gave her did absolutely nothing, and she had a vision of herself carrying all of her books around all year like a dork, until her mom showed her how to do it. ‘Left twenty-two, right fourteen, left thirty-eight,’ she whispered to herself over and over, willing it to stick in her head. Suddenly, the locker popped open. “I did it!” she crowed, and her mom smiled.

“See, you’ll get the hang of it.”  
She met back up with Ruby in one of the stairwells after they visited all their classrooms. Ruby looked absolutely overwhelmed.

“This is crazy. I’m going to get so lost. I should go back to my old school!”

“Don’t say that! You’re the only person I know in this whole city! Besides, do you really want to spend another year listening to Genevieve tell you about how her parents just took her to Monaco or whatever?” Ruby rolled her eyes.

“God, she’s such a snot. Plus at least I don’t have to wear those stupid plaid skirts anymore.”

“Just think,” Abigail said. “We’re the only people in this whole school who have their own personal dragon. I think we’ll be okay.” 

***  
“Your mom is really pretty,” Ruby said. They were playing in Abigail’s room, bouncing on her bed. Ruby’s mom had happily said she could spend the night. Abby’s dad was out running, so her mom was in the living room,   
grading papers and groaning about how none of her students knew how to write a proper sentence. “You look a lot like her.”

“It’s the hair,” Abigail said. Her mom usually kept her long, brown hair pulled up in a bun for class, but she had pulled it down after she made the girls a pot of spaghetti for dinner, rubbing at her scalp and saying that her hair   
hurt. “Mine’s not as long as hers, but it’s always been the same color.”

“You’re lucky. Yours is so soft and long. Mine’s all thick and won’t do anything.” She peered at herself in the mirror, pushing at the mass of black waves in irritation. “My mom always keeps hers short; she’s such a mom. She says Samira grabs it too much to grow out.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s so boring.”

“My mom was super wild before she got married. When she got her PhD, she got the preamble to the Constitution tattooed on her back.”

“Seriously? Your mom has a tattoo? Isn’t the Constitution super long? It’s, like, ten pages, right?”

“Yeah--she’s got the beginning part. ‘We, the people, in order to form a more perfect union,’ and all that. Weird, right?” Secretly, Abigail thought the tattoo was kind of cool. When she was little, she would ask to see it all the time. “When my mom and dad first got married, they took this road trip from Virginia to Plymouth Rock to Boston and all the way up to Maine. They used to talk about how romantic it was all the time. One time, I accidentally figured out that I was conceived down the street from Paul Revere’s house.”

“Gross!”

“Seriously.”

***  
Later that night, Ruby and Abby pulled their pillows close together. They had set up sleeping bags on the floor so they could pretend to be camping. It was hard, though--the downstairs neighbors were stomping around and slamming doors.

“It’s so loud here,” Abigail said. “How do you ever get used to it?”

“I dunno--I never even notice it. My mom says you’re not a real New Yorker until you want to murder your neighbors in cold blood.” Abigail laughed sharply, a little shocked. Hopefully she was kidding.

“I can’t imagine her saying that! Your mom is so nice,” Abigail said. “She’s always so smiley.”

“She’s a librarian,” Ruby said archly. “It’s her job to be nice to people. Your mom’s nice too.”

“She’s polite. She’s not really nice.” Abigail was glad that Ruby couldn’t see her face in the dark. “She used to be,” she whispered. “She used to be happy. I remember her laughing while she graded papers. James would crawl around under the table and pretend to be a puppy. After he died, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. I couldn’t play at my friends’ houses any more. She started sleeping on the couch in the living room. My dad would sleep in their room. Sometimes I thought it was because they couldn’t stand to be around each other any more, but I think it was because my room was right next to the living room, and it meant she was closer to my bedroom door and could keep an eye on me. Then, about a year ago, it switched. All of a sudden, it was like she couldn’t look at me. She hardly talks to me now. She still hugs me, but it’s like I’m some neighbor kid she hardly knows. It’s like I   
don’t even exist.”

Ruby hugged her in the dark. “I never know what to say. I can’t imagine if Samira died.”

Abigail took a shaky breath. “There’s nothing to say. But thanks.” Ruby squeezed her.


	16. Chapter 16

“Fort, don’t freak out, but there’s a book in my backpack, and you need to look at it.”

“What? No!” He looked frantic. “Unless maybe it’s old and you are going to throw it away? I could keep maybe a few pages.” She could hear the longing in his voice. “No, probably not. Please take it away!”

“No. Chill out a second and listen. It’s a really important book, and you’re not gonna hurt it. It’s fine. You can totally do this. Just breathe through your nose or something, and let me show you what it says.” Fort looked terrified, but he lowered himself to the ground and let Abigail slowly pull the book out of her bag. Ruby stroked his neck, trying to relax him. He looked at the cover of the book and jerked backwards in shock.

“The Great Library?!”

“Shh, it’s fine, we promise,” Ruby soothed. “It’s totally okay. You’re gonna be so excited!”

“Don’t freak out,” Abigail said. “I just wanted to see what your library looked like. It was really pretty, you were right. And then we found something incredible.” She flipped to the back of the book, to the page with the burning buildings.

“Oh no!” he wailed.

“Fort, stop!” Abby ordered. “Don’t look at the picture, look at the words!” She pointed to the opposite page.

Fort read the chapter title. “Caesar’s invasion of Alexandria.”

“Yeah! Caesar’s invasion! He was trying to take over Egypt or something, so he sailed all these boats into the port right next to the library. Right where you were! And something went wrong--I don’t know if he was losing the battle or what, I didn’t read that far--but he decided to set all the ships in the port on fire so they couldn’t escape or whatever! That must have been what that librarian was trying to tell you! The whole city had to run away, and Caesar started this big fire, and the book says it got out of control. Fort, you didn’t burn down the library! Julius Caesar did!”

It took a long time to convince Fort that the book was correct. He read and reread the section on the fire, his nictitating eyelid sweeping back and forth as he read about the many Egyptians who died during Caesar’s invasion. Eventually he pulled the book entirely out of Abigail’s hands, settling down on his haunches and turning back to the beginning to read it from the start.  
Abigail pulled Ruby away from Fort and leaned close to her.

“I want to help him,” she whispered. “I hate leaving him down here.”

“Me too!” Ruby said.

“He told me he used to live in that library, down in some kind of basement. He said it was kind of like the dragon in Lord of the Rings, except that instead of sitting on a big pile of gold, he loves books. But he’s scared he’s gonna accidentally set them on fire, so all he sits on is trash. I think all he wants is to have a safe place to sleep and read.” She looked nervous, hoping Ruby wasn’t going to freak out. “I thought maybe we could get him to move into our library.” Ruby’s eyes widened, and then she grabbed Abigail’s arms in excitement.

“Seriously? How awesome would that be?! But oh my god, if my mom finds out, I’m gonna be in so much trouble! And how would we get him there? We’d have to sneak him in. Some time when there’s no one around. But if we try to sneak out at night, we’ll totally get mugged or something. And there’s always people in the library--I’ve never seen it not crowded. But he’d be so happy! And it’s so much nicer than here. He’d be all clean, and we could bring him snacks. My mom is always complaining that there’s mice getting into the collections in the basement--I bet he could take care of that!”

“I certainly could,” a voice said behind them, and they whipped around guiltily. Fort was eavesdropping on them. He was holding the book in his claws, open to the pages about Caesar’s fire.

“Maybe,” he said nervously. “I mean, if it wasn’t my fault. The fire. And I’ve gotten so much better about not making flames by accident! You remember how I toasted your sandwich? That was okay, right? I did pretty good!” He seemed to be trying to convince himself. Abigail threw her arms around his neck.

“You did great! You totally could live in the library. There are seven levels of basements! Heck, you could probably have a whole apartment down there, and nobody would even notice! And it’s warmer in winter than down here, I bet!”

“Way warmer,” Ruby added.

“But the books…” Fort trailed off.

“Thousands of them! Millions, probably!”

“Ten million in the library system, and forty-five million items in total, my mom says,” Ruby added.

Abigail squeezed him again. “And Fort, they have WiFi in the library.”

“WiFi?”

“Electronic books. Books on computers. Books that can’t ever catch fire.” Fort’s eyes lit up, and he smiled the biggest smile she had ever seen.


	17. Chapter 17

'My dad is coming home early!' Abby’s phone chimed with a text from Ruby.  
'Seriously? Awesome!' Ruby had been a bit quiet and withdrawn ever since her dad had left; Abigail missed her bubbly cheer.  
'Yeah, he got whatever it was done early, so he gets to come home! He called this morning to tell my mom. We’re just leaving. Are you on your way?'  
'Almost. Just grabbing my stuff.' Abigail stuffed her phone in her pocket and headed out the door.

***  
“Before you move, we’re gonna have to get you cleaned up.” Ruby frowned at Fort. When Abigail had stopped hugging him, her clothes were covered with dirt and bits of mildew. “You can’t track all that yuck into the library. The janitors have enough to do. And we have to figure out how we’re going to do it.”

“I shall sneak in at night. You need not be involved. I am quite good at moving underground in these tunnels and staying in the shadows. I just need to know which way to go and how to get to the basement.”

“No way. You’re not doing this alone. We’ll figure something out,” Ruby said. “And in the meantime, we’ll get you cleaned up. Let me think about how we can get you in without anybody seeing you.”

Ruby and Abigail agreed to meet back in the tunnel the next day at lunch. “I’ll figure something out,” she told Abby on the way home. “I promise.” Abigail hoped so, because she didn’t have the slightest idea how to get a dragon into the biggest library in New York without anyone noticing.

That night, Abigail’s mom flipped on the tv to the local news, and they ate fish sticks and french fries in front of the tv. Her mom sat on the couch, and her dad sat at the table in the kitchen, reading a book. Abigail sat on the other end of the couch, picking at her food and thinking about Fort.

“Preparations for the annual fireworks display are well under way,” the news announcer read. “The fireworks show costs upwards of two million dollars a year, a price tag some taxpayers say is too high. Let’s go to John, who is speaking to people on the street about the Fourth of July festivities.”

“Huh,” her dad said, looking up from his book.

“What?” her mom asked, meeting his eyes briefly and then looking away.

“The fireworks. The Fourth of July is coming up. Maybe we should go.”

“Seriously?” Abigail asked. They’d watched the show on tv before, flipping between the patriotic display in Washington, DC, and the rock and roll festival in New York, and then they would run outside to watch the little fireworks show their town put on from the front porch.

“I don’t know,” her mom said. “It’s awfully crowded. I’m sure security is crazy. I don’t know if I want Abigail in that mess.”

“Come on, Mom! You wanted to move here! Shouldn’t we do something fun now that we’re here?”

Her parents looked at each other.

“It might be nice to do something as a family,” her dad suggested tentatively. They looked at each other for a long moment.

“That would be nice,” she said, and they smiled at each other.

***  
The next day, Abigail told her dad she was going to meet Ruby for lunch and hang out at the library. As usual, he was sitting at the computer. He’d gone to plenty of meetings with his publisher since they had moved, and he seemed to answer a lot of emails and post on a bunch of writers’ websites, but Abigail hadn’t seen him actually write anything in ages. He used to sit at the computer, eyes focused on the screen, sometimes for hours, pounding away the keyboard and occasionally laughing to himself or going back and reading a line out loud, erasing things and rewriting them. Sometimes he’d print out page after page and attack them with a red pen, marking them up and letting Abigail look at the manuscript and find the misspelled words. He would call her his little editor, and he was always so proud if she found an error that he had missed.

“Okay, kid, be careful.”

“I will!” She darted out the door before he noticed she was carrying a big messenger bag along with her backpack. It was stuffed to the brim with some old towels she found in a moving box, a couple of brushes she stole from her bathroom, and a bunch of snacks.

When she got to the subway, Ruby was already there.

“Finally!”

“Sorry, it took me a while to pack up.” She dumped all the stuff out of her bag. “Fort, you want a banana or an apple?”

“Ooh, banana, please.”

“So, did you think of anything, Ruby?” Ruby frowned.

“Kinda, but not completely. Fort, you know your way around these tunnels pretty well, right?”

“Certainly. I have explored them quite thoroughly.”

“Well, I think you can get up to the library pretty well. We’re close to it right now, and there’s a bunch of steam vents and stuff around the library. I’m pretty sure you can get almost right up to the doors underground. But there’s always people around in the day time, and my mom and dad never let me out at night alone. I’ll keep thinking about it.” They ate quietly, pondering the problem.

“Hey, Ruby, I wanted to ask you something. My mom and dad said we can go see the big fireworks show. Have you been to it? Is there a place to see it near here?” Ruby stared at her a moment, and then jumped up from the ground.

“The fireworks show! The Fourth of July is coming up! That’s it!” Abby and Fort looked at each other, perplexed. “Everyone in the whole city watches the show! Practically everyone in the world watches the show! Fort, the library’ll be deserted! It’s perfect!”

“But how will we get him in?”

“There’s a perfect place to watch right down at the end of Forty-Second Street, where it meets the water. There’s always a huge crowd. We’ve been there a bunch of times; it’s really fun. We’ll go to the show, and then we’ll ditch it! We can sneak back here and let Fort in. Fort, you can get through the tunnels right up to the entrance and meet us there.” She paused, frowning in thought. “But the library is closed on the Fourth every year. Hmm.” The frown deepened. “I’ll just have to steal Mom’s keys.”

“What?”

“My mom. She’s got a key to one of the side doors in case there’s an emergency or something. I dunno what kind of emergency a library could have--someone needs to look up the population of New Zealand at three a.m. or something? Whatever. Anyway, she keep it on the key ring in her purse.”

Abigail, Fort, and Ruby debated how--or whether--to steal Lori’s keys. (“But it’s stealing,” Abby argued. “Live a little!” Ruby rejoined.) Ruby plotted out the details carefully. “You’d make an awesome criminal,” Abigail said. Ruby grinned.

They pulled out the towels, washcloths, and brushes and began scrubbing Fort as they planned. He loved it, wriggling around and gigging as they scrubbed his tummy. He used his claws to scrape off the worst bits of mildew and muck from between his toes and behind his ears. Under the dirt, his scales were lovely, a mermaidy blue-green that shimmered. Abigail scrubbed his tail until it shone, and Ruby was brave enough to scrub at his fangs with a giant, foot-long toothbrush she got as a gag gift one year from the dentist.

Finally they were done. Fort preened, admiring his glimmering scales in a reflective bit of pipe and flipping his tail back and forth proudly. Ruby quietly said, “So, do you think we can do it?”

“Steal your mom’s keys, ditch our parents, run six blocks from the waterfront to the library in a crowd of about a million people, sneak our pet dragon into the public library without anyone seeing, and run six blocks back, all without our parents noticing? Sure! Piece of cake!” Ruby laughed so hard she almost fell down.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one!

It was the Fourth of July. Abigail looked in the long mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door again. She brushed her hair and then carefully pulled it into a ponytail. Tennis shoes, old shorts with a rip in them, and her comfiest tank top that had a tomato sauce stain on the front. She tried not to care that everyone in the city was going to be out on the street seeing her looking like she definitely didn’t belong in New York. It was more important to be comfortable tonight. ‘Fort’s Independence Day,’ she thought.

“Are you guys almost ready?” she shouted out her door.

“Yes! Don’t worry, it doesn’t start for ages! We have plenty of time!” her mom yelled back. She came into the living room. She looked more casual than usual--jeans, a soft old tee-shirt, and her hair pulled back. She looked younger than she had in ages, more like she did when Abigail was little and they would go for walks and play at the park.

Her dad came out of the bedroom too, grabbing his running shoes. He glanced at his wife in surprise. “Wow, you look nice,” he said.

“In this?” she said.

“I mean, it’s nice to see you out of those suits.” She looked away, and he shoved his shoes on. “You look more like yourself.”

“They’re definitely fancier at NYU than they were at UVA,” her mom said. “I’ve gotta dress up or the other faculty will think I’m a slacker.”

“Come on, it’s time to go!” Abigail was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Okay, okay,” her dad said with a laugh, breaking the tension.

They took the elevator downstairs, and her mom waved at the doorman as they left.

“Bye, Frank!” she said with a smile.

“You know him?” her dad asked curiously.

“I see him when I’m coming home from work. It’s nice to say hi, isn’t it? He gets all our packages and stuff.” ‘You don’t say hi to us,’ Abigail thought. From the look on her dad’s face, she suspected he was thinking the same thing. Most nights, her mom stayed at work late, came home, and got straight in the shower. Then she’d eat on the couch while she graded papers or answered emails.

“Huh, I guess he must work evenings. There’s somebody else on when I go running in the mornings.”

***  
The street was jammed with people, all heading toward the waterfront. They joined the crowd, flooding across the street without any rhyme or reason. Abigail felt sorry for the cab drivers trying to get around--there were too many people in the streets for them to do anything but inch along. Her mom walked on her left and her dad on her right, keeping her in between them. She remembered how they used to swing her and James by their hands, until she got too big and her dad would joke that she was going to pull his arm off. Sometimes her parents would hold hands while she ran ahead and picked up worms. They were one of the first things she’d learned to draw, carefully outlining their segments. She would sometimes let James hold them for her while she drew, and he giggled when they wriggled in his palm.

She studiously avoided looking at the library as they walked past it, although she couldn’t help glancing at the steam vents around the outside walls. Somewhere down there, Fort was getting ready to make his move.  
“Isn’t it beautiful?” her mom said, admiring the building. “Supposedly it’s one of the best examples of Beaux-Arts architecture in the country.” She smiled at Abigail. “I’m glad you found that art class. I was hoping you’d be able to make some friends before school started.” She smiled down at Abby, her face soft. “I know this hasn’t been easy on you,” she said quietly, taking Abby’s hand, and Abigail suddenly felt her throat closing. She blinked back quick tears and squeezed her mom’s hand.

“I’m doing okay,” she said, then quickly let go of her mom. Stay focused, she told herself. “Besides,” she said loudly and cheerily. “I totally have friends! Patience and Fortitude!”

“Patience and Fortitude?” her dad asked.

“Yeah! The lions! Those are their names. But Fort is my favorite!” She barely suppressed a hysterical giggle as she dared to point toward the marble lion, but also past it, to the vent in the ground where she hoped Fort was sitting, waiting for her. He’d spent two days exploring the vents and tunnels near the library, looking for the one closest to the entrance.

“Okay, honey,” her dad said with a laugh. “You can be friends with lions if you want, just don’t let them eat you.”

They finally arrived at the waterfront. Abigail led her mom and dad to the edge of the crowd, far back from the river.

“Where are you going, kiddo?” her dad asked.

“Come on, I see a good spot!” she urged. She and Ruby had scoped it out ahead of time and agreed to meet by a light post on a little high spot where it would be easier to find each other. She weaved through the crowd determinedly.

“Don’t you want to get closer to the river?”

“No, this is perfect! Ruby said they can see it perfectly from here! She does this all the time!” That was an exaggeration--Ruby said her dad complained about fighting the crowds and her mom didn’t like the noise; they had watched the fireworks exactly twice from here, and watched them on tv like the rest of the world most years. Ruby had begged and pleaded with them to take her this year.

Finally Abby saw the lightpost; Ruby had climbed up on the base and was hanging off it, scanning the crowd. Her face lit up when she saw Abigail.  
“You made it!” she crowed. They threw their arms around each other in a hug.

“Are you ready?” Abby whispered in Ruby’s ear.

“Totally not at all,” Ruby whispered back. “But we’re gonna do it anyway. My mom’s keys are in her purse. I saw her drop them in there before we left.” They turned to see their parents shaking hands with each other.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Abigail’s mom was saying with a big, sociable smile.

“We’ve heard so much about you,” Ruby’s dad said. He was dark-skinned and tall, with a thick but well-trimmed beard. “I’m Rajiv, and this is my wife, Lori.”

“I’m Elizabeth, and this is Phillip,” her mother said.

“Yes, we met at that school registration thing,” Lori said with a smile. “What a madhouse that was. Almost as bad as this!” she said, elbowing someone who was getting pushed into her by the crowd. They chatted about the weather and how much they were enjoying their new home and how much fun they were having exploring the city. Abigail frowned, wondering when exactly they were supposed to have gone exploring together before tonight. She certainly didn’t remember it. “Of course, I’m working a lot of the time. The university here is even bigger than I realized! It’s so impressive!”

“There’s so much to do here, you could never try everything!” Rajiv said with a laugh. “I travel a lot for work, so Ruby spends most of her time at the library. I’m so glad she’s found Abigail to hang out with. I know she was nervous about starting a new school this year.”

“Middle school, right?” Philip said. Their parents commiserated about the weirdness of having pre-teens, but Abigail had tuned them out. It was starting to get dark.

“Are you ready?” Ruby whispered.

“Are you?” Ruby rolled her eyes, but Abby could tell she was nervous. This was it.

Ruby sidled alongside her mom, pretending the crowd had pushed her that way. There certainly were enough people to hide her movements. Abby pretended to be people watching, but she could hardly breathe as Ruby slowly, carefully insinuated her hand up to where her mom’s purse was tucked under her arm. She couldn’t quite get into it; her mom was holding it too tightly. Ruby started to look frantic, shaking her head at Abby behind her mother’s back. Abigail bit her lip, then threw herself forward in the fakest stumble she had ever done. She piled into Mrs. Gupta, pushing her off balance.

“Oof!” Lori said, falling back and dropping her purse on the ground as she grabbed at her husband to keep from tumbling over.

“Abigail!” her mom yelled.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Somebody pushed me and I just fell over! It was totally an accident! I didn’t mean to!” ‘Shut up,’ she told herself furiously. ‘You are the worst liar ever.’ She brushed nonexistent dirt off Lori’s sleeve as Ruby scooped her bag off the ground, shoved her hand into it, and pulled something glittery out, shoving it into her pocket in under a second.

“Here, Mom, I’ve got your bag!” she chirped cheerily with a big smile.

“Thanks, honey,” her mom said.

“Stage 1 complete,” Ruby mouthed silently at Abigail.

Abigail half-listened to her parents making small talk, admiring the river and asking Ruby’s parents about whether the line to ice skate at Rockefeller Center in winter was worth it. The sky grew dimmer. She pulled out her phone and checked the clock. Twenty minutes. She felt like she was going to throw up, and when she glanced over at Ruby, she saw that Ruby looked pale and vaguely nauseated too. ‘Maybe that’ll help,’ she thought. ‘If we both look like we’re about to puke, they’ll have to let us go.’ Ruby saw her looking, glanced down at her watch, and paled further. She took a deep breath and nodded at Abigail.

“Mom, I’ve gotta pee!” Abigail said loudly. A boy her age nearby looked over, and she blushed.

“What? You just went before we left the house, didn’t you? There’s no place around here to go! Can’t you hold it until the show is over? It’s about to start!” She looked annoyed.

“No, there’s still twenty minutes! I can totally make it!” He dad sighed.

“Fine, I’ll take you.”

“No, no, it’s okay! I can take her,” Ruby said quickly. “There’s a shop right around the corner that’s got a bathroom. And it’s always really clean!” she added.

“Are you sure?” Ruby’s mom asked.

“Yeah, I go there all the time! You know, the one that old guy with one leg owns? He told me he was gonna be open tonight to he could sell tee-shirts to all the tourists. He’s super nice!”

“Okay, I guess. But be careful! And hurry--the show is starting soon!”

As Abigail and Ruby started to push their way through the crowd, she heard her mom say wistfully, “They’re getting so big, aren’t they? Do you miss when they were babies?”

“God, no,” Ruby’s mom answered. “Samira’s only just started sleeping through the night! Never again!”

The girls weaved through the crowd until it opened up a bit as they got further from the fireworks viewing area.

“Are you ready?” Abigail said.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

Abby glanced at her phone one more time. “Ten minutes! Come on! God, there’s cops everywhere!”

“Just look cool!” Ruby hissed at her.

They raced across the street and began speed walking down Forty-Second Street. Everyone was going the other way, hurrying to get spots by the water. They dodged in and out of the crowd, going faster and faster until they were just running flat out down the street. A few people turned to look, and Abigail heard one guy say, “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, just gotta pee!” she shouted back, and heard laughter behind her as she raced past him.

“Three more blocks!” Ruby yelled. Her breath was coming hard, and Abigail could feel a stitch in her side, but she ignored it.

They ran and ran, zipping in and out of the crowd, until Ruby skidded to a halt. Abby barely avoided slamming into her. The library was right ahead.  
“He’d better be here,” she said. They crossed the last street and edged up to the side of the library. There were bushes and trees here shading the walls, and Ruby crept behind one, trying to get out of sight. “Which vent is it?” she said frantically, darting along the wall of the library. There were steam vents all along the wall, and they had no idea which one Fort would be hiding beneath.

“This one,” a voice boomed from underground. 

“Shhh!” Abigail said, glancing around. The street was emptier now; almost everyone had made their way down to the water, and they were hidden by the darkened sky.

“Sorry. Are you ready for me?” Fort said more quietly.

“Yeah, almost,” Ruby said, grabbing her glasses as they slid off her sweaty nose. “Can you get around closer to the front door?”

They heard Fort’s claws clicking below them as he scrambled to a vent right at the corner of the library. The girls crouched behind the first bush, peeking out. The huge marble steps were empty; the library was dark and locked up for the night.

“How much time?”

“Just a minute left.”

Ruby pulled her mom’s keys out of her pocket and flipped through them. “Okay, I’ve got it. Fort, are you ready?” she called down through the grating.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said nervously.

“Let’s do this.” The girls knelt down, one on each side of the metal rectangle. They pulled on it, straining their arms. It was just set in the ground, but grass had grown over the edges, and packed-down dirt held it down.  
“Argh, this isn’t working!” Abigail said, pulling as hard as she could.

“Let me help,” Fort said. He stretched upward, pressing his nose to the vent. “Ready?” he said, his voice muffled with his mouth pushed against the metal grating.

“One, two, three!” Abigail said, and as they pulled, Fort flapped his wings, thrusting upward, and the grate flew up, thrown into the air. The girls were barely able to keep it from crashing back down, shoving it to the side to land in the grass. For a terrifying moment, Fort’s entire head, horns and all, were sticking up out of the ground, only a few dozen feet from the stragglers still walking down the street toward the water.

“Get down!” Abigail hissed.

As Fort ducked back underground, the girls stepped to the edge of the marble stairs.

“Here we go,” Ruby said. They ran up the stairs, trying to keep to the shadowed edge, and ducked under the portico. The library had several sets of huge, fancy double doors for the public, but there was a small, normal door off to one side for the employees to use. Ruby ran up to it, Abigail close behind her, hoping no one had noticed them. Ruby shoved the key into the lock and twisted, but it didn’t move.

“Crap, wrong key!” Before Abigail could panic, Ruby jerked the key out, picked another one, and tried again. This time, the lock turned with a click. Ruby pulled the door open just an inch, peeking into the darkness. “I don’t see anyone.” She stepped all the way inside the library, pulling the door open a bit more. “I think we’re clear. This is it.” Her eyes wide, she turned to Abigail. “Call him.”

Abby grabbed the door handle, turned toward where she knew Fort was hiding at the base of the stairs, and looked up at the sky. She waited three breathless heartbeats, then the first firework exploded over the river, and the few people still on the street all looked up and away from the library, entranced by the sparkling explosion in the sky.

“Fort, now!” Abigail shouted, and a gigantic shape exploded out of the ground below her. She yanked the door wide open as far as it would go, and watched in astonishment as the twenty-foot-long dragon threw himself up the marble stairs, in full view of the world for a moment, claws digging into the priceless marble, racing for the doorway and throwing himself through it. His long tail whipped up the stairs after him, actually knocking against the statue of Fortitude as he flew by. The second he was through, Abigail flung herself through the door and pulled it shut, closing herself in the darkness beyond.

“Did we make it?” Ruby looked stunned. Abigail could hardly blame her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Fort, up on his back legs, enormous and green and standing in the middle of the lobby of the Public Library of New York. For a moment, she thought madly of a stuffed wooly mammoth on display in the middle of a natural history museum in Washington, DC, that she had seen on a trip once. Then she shook herself.

“Not yet! Come on, Fort! And get down! What if somebody’s watching the security cameras?” Fort tore his eyes away from the Reading Room, stretching ahead of them in the darkness, and hunched down in the shadows.  
“Follow me,” Ruby whispered. She had chatted with the security guards the week before, and one of them confessed that he would be working that night, but he was planning on watching the fireworks show out the windows.  
They raced through the library, down several sets of stairs, through hallways, until they got to the place they had picked out earlier. The furthest away basement, where dusty old manuscripts were kept in boxes. Ruby said people hardly ever came down there. She unlocked the door with the same key she had used before. Fort’s eyes were huge and darted from side to side, trying to see everything at once. He looked thrilled and scared.

“They’re paper,” he said nervously.

“You can do this,” Abigail admonished. “You’re a big, grown-up dragon now, not a baby any more, and you are gonna be great. This is perfect!” She threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe this actually worked!”

“It’s not done yet,” Ruby urged. “We’ve gotta get back!” Fort nodded, seeming to steel himself.

“Go. I will be fine. I’ll find a good place to hide. You will come back tomorrow, though?” he added hopefully.

“Of course! You were amazing, Fort. Make a nest tonight, and we’ll be back before you know it.” Abigail and Ruby squeezed him again, then darted back through the library, out the door, locking it behind them, and raced down the stairs.

They ran as hard as they could back to the river, the fireworks exploding overhead as they ran. The crowd was thicker than ever, but Ruby led Abigail through it to where their parents were waiting.

“Where were you?” her mom asked.

“Sorry, it took longer than we expected! We had to find a key!” Abigail exclaimed, and Ruby gave a hysterical giggle. “But look, aren’t they awesome!” She pointed to the sky, hoping to distract her parents. They looked relieved to see her, and her dad put his arm around her, pulling her to his side. She was sweating and hot, but her mom pressed close on the other side, keeping the crowd from shoving at her. She looked up at the sky as the music swelled and the fireworks exploded, tucked between her parents like she used to be, and thought of Fort, tucked safely into his new home, and she was happy.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day, the city was back to normal, or at least as normal as it ever got. Abigail woke up before the sun rose, eager to go see whether Fortitude was doing okay and if he had found himself a place to sleep. She got to the library before it even opened and sat down on the marble steps near the statue of the original Fortitude. She leaned up against him. “Did you see him?” she whispered to the lion. “That dragon? He’s named after you.” The marble lion didn’t reply, but Abby thought he seemed pleased.

A few minutes later, she saw Ruby and her mom walking up the street. She jumped up excitedly and waved to Ruby, who burst into a sprint and raced up the steps to her, her eyes glowing.  
“Wow, you’re up early this morning,” Ruby’s mom said.

“Yeah, the fireworks were so awesome last night that I couldn’t sleep,” Abigail said. “Come on, Ruby! Want to go find something to do?” She was bouncing up and down on her toes like Ruby usually did.

“Yeah, I’m ready!” said Ruby, almost as keyed up as Abigail. “Bye, Mom! Have a good day!”

***  
The girls raced up the steps as Ruby‘s mom smiled bemusedly behind them. Abigail heard her say “I wish I had their energy,” as they flew into the library. They raced to the teen reading room and threw themselves down on the couch, pretending to be casual. “Do you think he’s okay?” Ruby whispered. Abigail shrugged, her eyes darting around the room. It was still empty, and she wanted to duck through the door down to Fort’s basement immediately.

“Do you think we can go already?” she whispered, but just as she did, a security guard walked into the room. Both girls froze.

“Good morning, ladies,” the guard said.

“Hi!” they both chirped, looking as innocent as possible. He glanced around the room and then walked back out.

“You’re going to get us caught!” Ruby hissed. “Hold on just a minute.” She pulled out a small notebook from her back pocket and checked her watch. Carefully she wrote down the time in the book under the heading “Teen Reading Room.”

“What’s that for?” Abigail asked.

“We’ve got to track the security guards rounds so we’ll know when we can get into the basement. I’m going to try to keep track of them for every room so we can figure out exactly which pattern they use.”

“Wow,” Abigail said “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about becoming a spy when I grow up,” Ruby said with a giggle.

Eventually Ruby decided it was safe, and the girls started through the reading room to a utility closet. They ducked inside and silently closed the door behind them before opening a second door leading down to a dark staircase. It was an old entrance to the basement for maintenance people, but one of the janitors had told Ruby that they mostly used elevators these days. They tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to make any noise, but the place appeared deserted. 

Abigail whispered, “Fort! Fort, are you here?” They held their breaths, hoping to hear him, but there was no answer. “Where do you think he is?” Abigail said.  
“Here I am,” a deep voice said. They whipped around.

“You’re here!“ Ruby exclaimed. Abigail threw her arms around Fort’s neck.

“I’m so glad to see you! I was worried about you all last night.” Forte smiled.

“Come and see what I found.” He led them through the basement, his claws clicking on the tile floor, to the darkest end, and then around an almost hidden corner.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” Ruby sad. It was a little alcove tucked in the back, and it looked like it’d been meant to be a storage closet that was never finished. It fit Fort perfectly. He stepped into it, turned around, and curled up like a cat with his tail coiled around him.

“Yes, it is. I found it last night and I had a lovely night’s sleep. So much better than the subway. I even caught a mouse.” Abigail clapped.

“Yay, I’m so glad! A real house!”

“It is. I thank you both,” Fort said affectionately. “I owe you both for helping me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ruby said. “We’re your friends.”


	20. Chapter 20

Abigail looked at the advertisements tacked on the bulletin board as they waited for the security guards to pass by in their hourly round so they could duck down into the basement unseen. Ruby had gotten it down to a science; she could time their visits precisely so neither the guards nor her mother noticed them slipping in and out of Fort’s hideaway.

“Goat yoga!” one newsletter read. There was a picture of skinny women stretching on yoga mats with baby goats wandering between them. The goats were cute, but Abigail’s nose wrinkled at the thought of all the poop.

“Water aerobics!” another flyer crowed. This one showed a bunch of ladies in a swimming pool with odd-looking things strapped to their backs. Abigail pulled it down off the bulletin board, wondering what they were. “Enjoy a low-impact, high-effectiveness workout with water wings! We use specially designed ‘wings’ to add resistance for a fun new way to work out!” Abigail could see that the women were wearing sets of wings made of netting, like a kid’s fairy Halloween costume. The ends of the wings were strapped to their wrists so that when they swam, the water resistance would be higher. She imagined that would definitely give you big arm muscles.

“It’s time!” Ruby said excitedly in her ear.

“Geez, you scared me!”

“Sorry, but come on! You’re gonna miss the window!” They had exactly two minutes between when the security guard did his pass and the preschool teacher arrived for Mommy and Me toddler reading time to get out of the teen room, into the little kid playroom, through a utility door, and down the stairs into the basement.

***  
“Good morning,” Fort greeted them as always.

“Hi!” Ruby chirped, hugging him. “Did you have a good night?”

“Why, yes, I did. Look what I found!” Fort had built himself a small nest tucked in the back corner of one of the lower basement levels. It was in an unused alcove that was full of dust when he found it. Ruby and Abigail had spent a filthy morning cleaning out the dust and dirt while Fort “helped” by trying to push the dust with his claws. He only succeeded it throwing it up into the air and making them sneeze and laugh. Once it was clean, he lined it with several old newspapers he had carried from the subway. He wasn’t brave enough to put books in it yet (“What if I make a spark in my sleep?” he said, gnawing on a claw nervously), but he had stacked a few just outside the alcove where he could rest his head on them as if they were a pillow. He said they smelled like vanilla.

He was snuggled into his alcove, and he reached back into it and pushed out an old box. He neatly pulled the lid off, revealing that it was packed full of old, yellowed paper. “What are those?” Ruby asked. Abigail leaned closer, realizing the paper was stapled together like big notebooks, with old-fashioned typewritten words on the front.

“They are called ‘scripts,’ I believe!” Fort said. “For those moving picture entertainments you watch!”

“Moving picture...you mean movies?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, that’s it! Movie scripts!” Fort plucked one out of the box, flipping through it and sniffing deeply. “They smell so interesting, like old ink and film canisters. I smelled those once when someone threw a box of them away and I found it in the garbage. Like metal and plastic mixed together and warmed up.”

Ruby grabbed the next one in the stack, dust flying up. She waved it away and flipped it open. “Dude, this is a classic! Casablanca! This is probably worth money!” Fort looked worried.

“Oh? I thought they were unwanted. You do not think that anyone will want them, do you? I do not wish to damage them if they are valuable.”

“No way, look how dusty they are,” Abigail said. “I doubt anyone’s looked at them in ages.”

“These are awesome,” Ruby said. She read from the yellowed old pages. “Rick: ‘We’ll always have Paris.’ Ilsa: ‘I said I’d never leave you.’ Rick: ‘And you never will. I’m not good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that.’ And then she leaves him forever.” Ruby sighed deeply. “It’s so romantic.” She carefully closed the script and set it back in the box. “It’s better on the screen, though. Have you ever seen a movie, Fort?” 

“I have not.”

“Well, we’ve gotta fix that! You can totally watch them online. I’ll show you how.”

“I haven’t seen that one either,” Abigail said. “Is it good?”

“Good?” Ruby asked incredulously. “It’s pretty much the best movie ever made. Ilsa’s an awesome spy trying to rescue her husband from the Nazis. I’m gonna be her when I grow up.”  
“You’d make an awesome spy,” Abby agreed.

They pulled out the scripts, sorting through them and laughing over the funny, old type that looked so different from a computer. Abigail complained that they were weird just written out without any videos or anything. Fort almost knocked them down with his tail when he sneezed.

They lost track of them, looking through the old manuscripts for a couple of hours. Finally, Fort yawned and stretched, his wings stretching up behind him. “Ugh, I’m getting sore sitting here,” he said.

“That reminds me!” Abigail exclaimed. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the pamphlet. “You need exercise!”

“Pardon?” Fort said politely.

“Your wings! You need to fly!”


	21. Chapter 21

Fort protested and whined and tried to refuse, but Abigail and Ruby each got a hold of one of his front legs and pulled. They weren’t strong enough to actually make him move, but their insistent prodding finally got him out of his little nest and into the basement hallway. “I can’t do this! I haven’t flown in a century!”

“That’s why you need to do it! Your wings are gonna atrophy or something!”

Fort’s eyebrows drew together. “My wings are perfectly fine. I don’t need to fly anymore.”

“How do you know? What if you want to go on vacation or something?”

“Vacation?” he said disbelievingly.

“Well, or just go somewhere. You flew here, didn’t you?” It had bothered Abigail for ages--she had lain in bed at night, thinking about Fort thousands of miles away in Egypt, and wondering how he had ever managed to get himself all the way to America. At first she thought he must have snuck on board a ship or something, but she knew that was ridiculous--there was no way he wouldn’t be discovered on a months-long trip like that. Finally, one night, she realized. He must have flown.

She’d hardly thought about his wings. They were there, of course--they were no less astonishing than the rest of him. But he kept them tucked down along his back, laid down flat, and they sort of blended in with the rest of his, well, dragonness, and she just didn’t think about them much. She had (sort of) gotten used to seeing him walk on his strong, scaled legs, their long claws pressed to the ground. His arms were shorter, reminding her a bit of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. And his tail--the way it whipped around when he was excited or flipped back and forth like a cat when he was curious. They were all so astonishing that she just didn’t think about his wings much.  
“Yes, I did,” he said. “It was the furthest I have ever flown.”

“You seriously flew all the way here from Egypt?” Ruby asked.

“From Europe,” he corrected. “I had moved around a few times in between hibernating. Eventually, I wanted to see something new, so I went to the furthest west spot I could find on the French coast, and then I flew here.” He paused. “I was rather lucky airplanes had not been invented yet. That would have complicated things considerably.” Ruby laughed.

“How long did it take you?”

“Several days. I suspect I could have done it more quickly, but I wasn’t sure where I was going, so I meandered a bit. It would be a bit shorter if I had the navigation technology you have now.” He sat back on his hind legs, remembering. “It was really rather exciting, although I was sad to leave Europe. I scooped up fish from the water to eat, which I had never done before. They appeared quite surprised to see me.” Abigail laughed. “I even slept, a little. I watched some of the seabirds, and I copied them. I didn’t land quite as gracefully as they did, but I managed to slide into the water without sinking, and I float fairly well; my bones are hollow, like a bird. I even tried swimming a bit. My tail makes an excellent rudder.” He petted it fondly.

Abigail tried to imagine a dragon bobbing along in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, doggy paddling like a duck with arms. She laughed again.  
“You see, you need to be able to fly! What if you want to go back to France to visit or whatever?” She jumped up. “I’m putting you on an exercise program. Three times a day you have to stretch your wings! There’s plenty of room down here. And practice flapping them! It’ll be good for you.” Fort gave her a piercing look. Suddenly, he stood up, his claws scraping the ground, towering over Abigail and Ruby.

“Watch,” he said. Then he leaned down on all fours, like a cat about to pounce, and wriggled his wings. “Ooh, it’s been a while,” he said, wincing. He ruffled them again, the leathery webbing making a sliding sound. With a grunt, he stretched, the joints cracking and popping with disuse. They opened halfway, well over Abigail’s head, then settled back down again.

“Ouch,” Fort said. “Perhaps I do need to stretch them out.” Fort looked at Abigail with an unreadable smile. “But if I do, you must exercise as well.”

“Me? I get plenty of exercise. I walk all the way here and back practically every day! And I walk to Ruby’s house!”

“Exactly. Did you not tell me that you only came to this city a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I just moved here in June.” Although so much had happened that Abigail felt like it had been far longer.

“Then you must stretch yourself as I do. I explored below the city a bit before I found that cave in the subway, and I can tell that it is very large. I imagine there is a great deal to see. And how much of it have you seen? The subway, and this basement, and Ruby’s house, correct?”

“Well, and the park. We go there sometimes.” Ruby was rubbing Fort’s wing joints, massaging them. She tipped her head to the side, thinking.

“He’s right, you know. You’ve lived here for like a month, and what have you seen? Have your parents taken you to the Empire State Building or Rockefeller Center or any of that touristy stuff yet?”

Abby looked down. “Well, Mom works a lot. And they don’t really like doing stuff together.” Ruby’s lips pursed.

“I’ll take her out,” she said to Fort. “She’s right about your wings--you need to stretch them out. You do that, and I’ll make sure she sees the city a little bit.”

“But then you’ll be here all by yourself!” Abigail protested to Fort.

“We won’t be gone all the time, but you need to explore a little bit. He can use the time to exercise.”

“And Ruby has promised to show me how to use the Internet,” Fort said. “Electronic books! I cannot even imagine such a thing. They would not be as good for sleeping on as mine, but they will last forever!” He smiled a big, toothy grin.


	22. Chapter 22

“Hey, can I spend the night at Ruby’s and go out with her Saturday? Her dad’s gone, and her mom said she’d take us out somewhere.” Her parents looked up from their dinner, eaten at the table together for once. Abigail had taken her plate in her room, busy sketching Fort’s wings. They were like bat wings--she had spent an hour online looking up bat anatomy to get them right. Her dad had been pecking away at the keyboard all day--she wondered if he had finally gotten an idea for a new book. He seemed cheerful.

“I don’t know…” her mom said, her mouth pursed. Abigail remembered the months that her mom couldn’t bear to let her out of her sight. She hadn’t been to a sleepover since James died, actually.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Phillip said firmly. “Ruby seems so nice; I’m glad you guys have made friends.” He smiled encouragingly at her mom. “It’ll be good for her.” Her mom’s mouth softened.

“Okay, but let us know where her mom is taking you, okay?”

***  
'They said yes!' Abigail texted.  
Ruby texted her back a series of smiley faces and exclamation points, and Abigail smiled. The next afternoon, she threw a set of clothes into her backpack, then shoved in her phone, a hairbrush (though not the one she had used to scrape mud off Fort’s scales), her toothbrush, and a couple of ponytail holders. As she came out of her room, her mom was pulling on her shoes.

“Are you going back to work?” Abigail asked, confused. Her mom had just gotten home.

“No, I’m gonna walk you over there. I haven’t seen Ruby’s house yet, so I thought this would be a good chance.”

“Um, okay.” Abigail felt unaccountably nervous. It was so odd to have the two parts of her lives intersect--she felt like there was her life at home, with her mom and dad and all the silence between them and the little urn under the bed, and then there was her life outside, with Ruby and Fort and everything that had happened since she got to New York. 

Her mom chattered aimlessly as they walked to Ruby’s house. “How has it been going? I know I’ve been working a lot. Your dad says you’re gone all the time to the library?”

“Yeah, you know, Ruby’s mom works there, so she hangs out there during the day. We mostly read books and play on the computer or whatever. There’s a lot to do. And there’s a big park next door, so sometimes we have picnics.” In fact, they’d been avoiding the park and walking two extra blocks around it to make sure they didn’t run into Genevieve and her pack of little hyenas. But she and Ruby had been so distracted by getting Fort settled in his new home, she’d hardly thought about them in days.

“That’s nice. I’m glad--I know this was a hard move for you and that you didn’t want to come, but I’m glad you’re settling in.”

They walked into Ruby’s lobby, and the doorman buzzed them up. “Yay, slumber party time!” Ruby shrieked when she opened the door, throwing her arms around Abigail.

“Volume down!” her mom hollered with a laugh from the kitchen. “Sorry, she’s always turned up to ten,” she apologized, walking into the living room to wave them into the apartment. “Come on in; it’s so nice to see you again!” She and Elizabeth hugged while Ruby grabbed Abigail’s stuff and chucked it onto the couch.

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Ruby said. “We’re gonna order pizza and I got like ten movies we can watch! And tomorrow, we’re taking you out! Just like Fort told you to do,” she added in a whisper.  
Just then, a toddler’s impatient shout sounded from the kitchen.

“Oops, sorry, I was just feeding her,” Ruby’s mom said. Abigail’s mom was sheet white as she looked over and saw the chubby baby strapped carefully into a high chair, a bowl of chopped-up carrots and apples stuck to the tray in front of her. She was flinging the carrots onto the floor and shoving the mushed-up apple into her mouth happily.

“Oh, she’s so cute,” Elizabeth said.

“Yes, this is Samira,” Ruby’s mom said. “She’s about to be two. We left her with a sitter on Fourth of July because the crowds scare her.”

“Hello, Samira.” Elizabeth was stiff, and Abigail could tell she was seeing nothing but a bouncing baby boy with a shock of blonde hair instead of Samira’s dark curls. “Thanks for keeping Abigail.” Her mom turned away sharply. “Be good, honey. I love you. Have a good time.” She hugged Abigail for a moment, barely putting her arms around her, and pressed a sharp kiss to the top of her head, then quickly left, carefully closing the apartment door silently behind her.

“Is she okay?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah. She just has a hard time around babies.”

Abigail grabbed her stuff off the couch. “Come on, let’s go to your room,” she said, pinning a smile on her face.

***  
“We’re taking the train,” Ruby’s mom said over breakfast.

“A train? Like, a real train?”

“No, you know, the train--the subway!”

“Ooh, really?” Abigail asked. “I’ve got a ticket, but I’ve never used it before! Is it...scary?” She immediately felt like an idiot.

“It’s a little confusing at first, but don’t worry, I’ll be there. I thought we could go to the memorial.”

“But, Mom, that’s so depressing!” Ruby protested.

“It’ll be good for her to see,” Lori said firmly. “And after that, there’s plenty of places to eat and shopping and stuff around there. I know you don’t like it, but if she’s gonna live here, she needs to see it.” Abigail looked back and forth between them, confused. “What memorial?”

***  
The subway was crowded and dirty, although Abigail had been down in the tunnels enough times with Fort to not be scared. Ruby’s mom showed Abigail how to slide her MetroCard through the turnstile. “Go through quick,” she said, and sort of shoved Abigail through the turnstile. “Sorry, but the people behind us are waiting, so you need to get out of the way fast.” Ruby slipped through the turnstile with the ease of practice.

“How does anyone know which one to take?” Abigail wondered, looking up at the map of dozens of intersecting train lines. Ruby’s mom explained the different colors, and uptown versus downtown, and how the express trains skipped some stops to get places quicker.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Lori assured her. “You’re not a real New Yorker until you can ride the subway without looking at the map.”

Abigail refused to sit down, thrilled at hanging onto the train pole and feeling the ground flying by beneath her. She quickly figured out how to shift back and forth to keep from falling over as the train stopped and started at each station. Finally they arrived.

“The World Trade Center,” Ruby’s mom said as they stepped off the train.

“Oh,” Abigail said. “Where the Twin Towers were?” She knew about September 11th, of course. They had talked about it in class, and her mom and dad watched the memorial ceremonies on the news almost every year. She knew it was nearby, but she hadn’t exactly thought about the fact that she was really in the same city where the attack had happened.

Ruby’s mom settled the Samira in her stroller with a rattle and a pile of baby crackers. She immediately began stuffing them in her mouth and shouting, “Bird, Mama! Bird!” while pointing at every pigeon that flew by. Her mom led them down the block, and Abigail gasped.

The memorial was astonishing. There were two huge squares cut into the ground, giant, black holes where buildings had stood. Water poured over all four sides of the squares, rushing and sparkling. It was beautiful. Ruby’s mom stared at them for a long moment.

“They were so big,” she said.

“The Twin Towers?”

“Yep. My mom and dad brought me to see them when I was your age. I grew up here, but even to me, they seemed like the biggest buildings in the world.”

“Were you here that day?” Her mom didn’t answer for a minute.

“Yep. I was at work uptown. I worked at a school back then. I had just gotten there when one of the teachers started yelling for us to come watch the tv. Then the sky outside filled up with smoke. It covered everything. That was   
the planes. Then the towers fell.” She paused. “I thought that might be the end for us all.”

They stood there quietly for a long time, listening to the sounds of the baby playing with her toys and the pigeons burbling around them. Abigail looked at the giant, gaping holes in the ground for a long time. So many people had lost their families that day.

“Were there...were any kids killed?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yep. There was a day care in one of the buildings. I don't remember how many kids were in it. Plus another eight. They were in the airplanes.” Eight kids, just like James. Sixteen parents, and who knows how many brothers and sisters. “Of course, everyone who was killed was someone’s child,” Ruby’s mom added quietly.

‘It’s not just us,’ Abigail thought. She knew that other families lost kids sometimes, of course. One of her school counselors had tried to get her to join a club for kids whose brothers and sisters had died. She flatly refused. The idea of sitting around with a bunch of other left-behind kids sounded like a nightmare. But looking at those great, black holes dug in the earth made her think about all the other parents out there whose children had died. All the other brothers and sisters who had to go on growing up even though a piece of their family was missing.

“Come and look at the names,” Ruby’s mom said, leading them over to a long, metal display stretching along the edges of the pools. It was inscribed with names, thousands of them.

“Is this them?” Abigail asked, running her fingers over the etched letters.

“Every single one,” Ruby’s mom said. She touched them lightly and wiped a tear from her eye. “We’ll never forget them. They’ll always be with us.”

They spent a long time walking around the memorial, reading names and watching the water. Finally, Ruby’s mom announced, “Okay, time for something cheerier! Let’s go shopping!” They walked around the mall next to the memorial, Abigail gaping at all the incredibly expensive stores with brands she had only heard of on tv. Lori got them all ice cream cones--even the baby got a tiny scoopful in a cup that she happily smashed into her mouth, laughing hysterically. They took the train back home, Abigail slapping her ticket through the turnstile and marching through as soon as it clicked open.

“Look, you’re a pro already,” Ruby’s mom said. “You’ll be a city girl in no time!”


	23. Chapter 23

“Tell Fort I can’t come out today.” It was Monday, two days after Abigail spent the night with Ruby.

“How come?”

“I’m sick--I think I’ve got a fever,” Abigail lied. “I don’t feel good. I’ll be better tomorrow, though.” That was true enough. Ruby hung up, promising to hug Fort for her.

Abigail quietly walked out of her room, through the empty living room. Her dad had left, gone running. He mumbled something about meetings with his publisher, and Abby knew he would find a reason to be gone all day. She tiptoed into her parents’ room.

Her mom was having a Bad Day. She hadn’t had one in a while. The first days after James died, she and her mom and dad just lay in bed. None of them could get up and face the empty little bedroom. Abigail couldn’t stand to be in her own bedroom, where the tiny mark on the wall was hidden behind her desk. So she curled up between her parents, all three of them lying in the big bed, alone in their grief.

Eventually they stopped lying in bed. Her dad started running more often, almost every day, coming back sweaty and exhausted, his eyes red. He said it was from the wind. Her mom stayed at work later, grading papers at school and joining a dozen committees and clubs and going to meetings and get-togethers every weekend as the shadows below her eyes grew.

But once in a while, she just stopped. On those bad days, she called in sick to work, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed fully dressed, unable to move. Abby had once seen her dad reach out, his hand hovering over his wife’s brown hair, unable to touch her. She had rolled over, her back to him, and he walked quietly out of the room, pulled on his running shoes, and didn’t come back for hours.

But she would let Abby get in bed with her. Abby crept up to the side of the bed, pulled back the comforter, and slipped underneath next to her mom. It was dark in the room, the lights off and the curtains pulled shut. Abby was reminded of the dimness of the tunnels Fort had lived in for so long.

“Hi, Mom,” she whispered.

Her mom didn’t say anything, but she rolled over, wrapped her arm around Abigail’s waist, and pulled her tightly against her, as if she were a baby who needed snuggling.  
Her mom clung to her, silent but clutching at Abigail as if she were drowning. Abby knew she wasn’t the child her mom wished she was holding, but she snuggled close in her mother’s arms, burying her face in her mom’s chest, and she felt her throat start to close up.

Her mom never cried when she held Abby in the dark, but Abby did. She missed her mother so much, the mother she used to have Before. The one who laughed and pushed James on the little swing in the yard and bored her to tears talking about how the Founding Fathers argued about whether to say “thee” or “thou” in the Constitution. Abby clutched at her mother’s shirt and let the tears come, knowing her mother would never let her cry on her shoulder again if she knew about that little mark on her bedroom wall--if she knew what Abby had done.

***  
Bad Days never lasted long. Her mom let herself sink into to her grief for a day. Then, eventually, she released her hold on Abigail, threw back the comforter, and climbed out of bed. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, then without looking at Abigail, she went in the kitchen and begin washing the dishes. She scrubbed them hard; Abigail could hear them clanking together. Eventually, she called out, “Abigail, what do you want for dinner?“ She sounded as if nothing was wrong. Abigail sighed. She hated her mother like this sometimes. Pretending nothing was wrong. Pretending that everything was perfectly normal, the way it had been Before. She climbed out of bed and stared at herself in the mirror over the bathroom vanity. Her mom’s jewelry box was sitting on the counter, a drawer pulled part way out from her mom getting dressed the day before. Something glittered inside.  
Abigail pulled the drawer open. It was stuffed with the necklaces and earrings her mom wore to work, all piled together. Abigail poked at them with her finger, sifting through them. Suddenly she froze. There, in the back of the drawer, was a ring.

She pulled it out, feeling numb. It was a thin, silver ring, not fancy. Plain, except for two little gems set in the top. Two birthstones. Amethyst and emerald, February and May. It had been a gift for her mom one Mother’s Day. Abigail’s dad let her pick it out at the store. You could have any birthstones you wanted put in the setting. James was still just a baby, tucked in a baby carrier on her dad’s chest, and she carefully pointed to the birthstones for each of their birthday month’s to the lady behind the counter. “What a nice gift,” she had said approvingly. “Your mom is a very lucky lady.”

“Abigail?” her mom shouted from the kitchen again, irritated. “Noodles or tacos?”

“I’m not hungry. I’m going out.” Before her mom could ask her where she was going, she shoved the ring in her pocket and ran out the door. She ran down the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator, and stomped down the street. She turned left at the corner, instead of going straight ahead to the park or the library. She didn’t feel like seeing anyone, not even Fortitude. She walked down the street blindly, turning right and left at random, just walking. ‘She’s such a liar,’ she thought. ‘Can’t even admit when she’s miserable.’ She stopped and stared at her reflection the shop window. Her hair was tangled from laying in bed, and she was sweaty from walking fast in the summer heat. “James, I miss you,” she whispered to the air.

She saw a long black car pull up behind her in the window reflection, and a chauffeur got out. She didn’t know people had actual chauffeurs anymore. He open the back door and a tall man in a suit stepped out. “Come on, Genna, I’m in a rush.”

Abigail whipped around. Genevieve and her friend Aurelia climbed out of the car behind him, giggling at something. “Daddy,” Genna said in a babyish voice. “I need some money.”

“Fine, take my card.” He pulled out his wallet and handed Jenna a credit card. “Don’t lose it. I’ll be back in two hours; I’ve got to run to the office.”

“But, Daddy, we’ve got a bunch of stores to go to,” Genna whined.

“Two hours,“ her father said. “You are coming to that directors’ dinner tonight whether you want to or not. You know it’s important to your mother.” Genna rolled her eyes.  
“Fine.” Her dad climbed back into the car and it pulled away.

Abigail try to shrink back into the shop window, hoping they wouldn’t see her, but no such luck. Aurelia glanced at her, did a double take, and said loudly, “Gen, look, it’s your favorite tourist!”

“God are you stalking me or something? Why do I keep seeing you everywhere?”

“Just my luck, I guess,” Abigail muttered.

Genna looked her up and down. “Geez, someone needs a shower,” she said loudly, and Aurelia laughed. “Come on, Reelie, let’s go shopping.” They strutted into the store, letting the door slam behind them. Abigail sighed and turned for home.

When she got back to the apartment, she fixed herself a sandwich and ate it in three big bites, hardly tasting it. Her mom just watched her from the couch silently, not saying a word, not even yelling Abigail for going out and missing dinner. Abigail went to her room and shut the door, leaning against it and squeezing her eyes shut. She pulled the ring out of her pocket and looked at the two little stones, glittering in the light. Then put it under her pillow, carefully tucking it in, and climbed in bed, laying her head down just above where the ring was hidden.


	24. Chapter 24

The next day, Elizabeth went to work as usual, and Abigail dug a treat for Fort out of their moving boxes. “Look, Fort, I brought you something! I thought you’d like it. My mom was gonna donate it to a thrift store ‘cause it’s kinda out of date, but I told her I wanted it.” It was an old school globe. Abigail had felt ridiculous carrying a globe down the street, but she hoped Fort would like it. Fort spun the old globe, his eyes glowing. 

“Look at how detailed it is! So many countries there are now! Crates of Mallus would be absolutely pea-green with envy!”

“Crates of who would be what?” Ruby started laughing so hard she almost knocked the globe over.

“Is that not something one would say? Scarlett O’Hara said she wanted everyone to be pea-green with envy over her new mansion.” He stroked his scales as if he were fluffing a petticoat, and Abigail couldn’t help giggling. 

“Yeah, we pretty much just say somebody might be jealous. Who was that who was gonna envy your globe?”

“Crates of Mallus. He invented them, you know. Horrible bad breath, but quite a brilliant geographer."

Ruby laughed, then she pulled an odd little metal thing out of her pocket. “I brought you something too. I know you said you liked tea when you were living in France or whatever, and I found this thing at a store.” Fort took it from her, rolling it around in his claws. It was a curved piece of metal attached to an electrical cord. “It’s an immersion heater. I’ve never used one before, but the guy at the store said people used to use them at hotels and stuff. You plug it in and it gets really hot, and you stick it in a cup of water, and voila! Tea!”

***  
Fort was busy on the computer when Abby and Ruby arrived back at the basement after running out for lunch. His eyes were wide, glued on the screen, where Scarlett O’Hara was busy making Rhett Butler crazy.   
“This movie is amazing,” he breathed. “Did you know they started filming it before they even found an actress to play Scarlett O’Hara?”

“How do you know that?” Abigail asked.

“Research,” Fort answered shortly. Ruby had found a computer in the basement that the librarians could use while they were down there so they didn’t have to go back upstairs to look something up. It was dusty and clearly hadn’t been touched in ages, so she showed Fort how to use it. He had become incredibly adept at typing with his long claws. Abigail wished she could take a picture of him, a huge dragon bent over the little keyboard, pecking at it with the glow of the screen reflecting on his face. It was absolutely hilarious, but she knew she had to keep him a secret, and someone might see the picture on her phone. She pulled her little notebook out of her back pocket and sat down on the floor. A few minutes later, she had a quick sketch of Fort and his computer. She shaded in his horns, curving gently around his head, and wrapped his long tail around the computer desk so it would fit in the picture.

“After this, I will watch the Harry Potter films. All eight of them.” Fort announced. She noticed he had the stack of seven thick books all piled up behind him, well thumbed through. He must have found them in a stack of used books that hadn’t been sorted yet.

“Gone with the Wind and then Harry Potter? That’s...an odd combination.”

“I am going in alphabetical order.” His eyes were locked on the screen, where Rhett was just walking out on Scarlett for the last time, putting on his hat and disappearing into the fog. Fort sniffled a bit. “So sad. How can they not figure out how to be happy together?”

“Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be,” Abigail said, and sat down next to him as he pulled up the first Harry Potter movie. “Hit play--I like this one.”

***  
After the movie Abigail stood up and stretched her legs. “You need to exercise,” she said. Fort climbed to his feet, stretching his legs like a cat. I found a good place for it,” he said in his gravelly voice “Come on, I’ll show you.“ He let them through the basement, around the corner, and down the hallway. It was a long, wide hallway with several closed doors. “There’s plenty of room down here,” Fort said. “Look what I can do.” He stepped away from them, his tail sweeping along the floor, and Abigail and Ruby moved back to give him room. They both gasped as he suddenly stretched his wings open as far as they would go. They were huge, almost touching the ceiling. “Oh, Fort, they’re so beautiful,” Ruby said. 

Fort thrust his wings downward, and for just a moment, his feet left the floor and he hung in the air. “Fort, you’re flying,” Abigail gasped, and he touched back down. “You totally flew!”

“I’ve been practicing,” he said shyly, grinning. “I’d almost forgotten how nice it feels.” He flapped again, the air beating against their faces, and actually flew several feet this time. His wings were strong and wiry—Abigail could see the thick bones wrapped in muscle. They were the only part of him that wasn’t covered in scales. She reached up and ran her hand over one of them. 

“Why don’t they have any scales?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Fort said. “They just don’t.

“You’re warm blooded and you have wings like a bat,” Ruby said slowly. “It’s like you’re halfway between a reptile and a mammal. Fort, you’re a platypus!” Abigail laughed at Fort’s offended expression. 

“Ridiculous,” he said primly. “If you’re going to make fun of me, I won’t show you the other thing I found.”

“Ooh, what?!” the girls chorused. 

“A door,” said Fort. 

***  
He had found an exit. It was a door to a janitor’s closet that led to a large ceiling vent. It was big enough to climb in—the maintenance people must have used it for doing repairs. “I found it yesterday,” he said, looking away from them at the venting. “Through there, I can get into a duct that leads to one of those air vents, and then out! It comes out behind some trees at the edge of the building.” His eyes gleamed.  
“You mean you could get in and out of here? Without being seen?” Abigail’s eyes were wide. “That would be awesome!”

“What? No! Fort, you can’t!” Ruby looked petrified. “There’s always people around; someone will see you!”

“But what if he has to?” Abigail argued. “I mean, what if there’s an emergency or something? Or if someone comes down here and he needs to get out so they won’t see him?”

“I thought, perhaps, I could practice flying,” Fort said hopefully.

“No!” both girls shrieked.

“Fort, that’s a really bad idea,” Abigail said. “It’s one thing if you’ve gotta hide from a maintenance guy or something, but flying?”

“You told me I needed to exercise my wings!”

“But not outside! Do you know how many security cameras there are in this city? They’re everywhere!” She stamped her foot.

“Fine,” Fort said sullenly. He turned his back on them. “I’ll stay here.” Abigail and Ruby exchanged glances.

“Hey, I brought you some more books to read!” Ruby said cheerfully, trying to change the subject. “They’re all used; there was a bookstore in my neighborhood trying to get rid of some water-damaged books, so I picked up a bunch for you!” She unloaded her backpack, dumping the slightly swollen books onto the floor. “I figured since they’ve been wet, they might be softer for sleeping on! They’re perfect for your nest, right?” Fort still looked irritated, but he couldn’t resist nosing through the pile.

“Hmm,” he said. “They smell odd. Like the sewer.”

“Eww,” Abigail said, her nose wrinkling.

“But they will do,” he added. “If I sit on them, perhaps they will start to smell better in time.” He scooped the books up and carried them to his little alcove, carefully tucking them in the center where they would be under him when he laid down, like a mother hen with her eggs. He’d made quite a lovely little nest; there was the stack of Harry Potter books toward the front for resting his head on, Abigail’s dad’s detective novels scattered around the edges, and the movie scripts lining the floor for warmth and softness. He had placed the globe Abigail brought in a corner where he could spin it with his tail.


	25. Chapter 25

Abigail arrived home from the library to an empty apartment. She and Ruby had an exciting afternoon--a security guard caught them just about to sneak through the door to Fort’s basement. “That’s for employees only, young ladies!” he had said firmly, before chasing them out of the room. They went outside, giggling and half panicked, and snuck around the side of the library. “Fort!” they had called down the vents. It took a few minutes, and several passersby looked at the girls shouting into the sewer vents quite oddly, but eventually he heard them.

“What are you doing up there?” he rumbled, stretching his face up to them from the tunnel below.

“A security guy almost caught us! We had to run out!” Ruby whispered with a hysterical giggle. “We’re gonna walk around for a few minutes and then we’ll try again, okay?”

“Be careful! I do not want you getting into trouble. If you cannot come down, don’t! I found a whole box of textbooks that I have not yet read.” His eyes unfocused, looking a bit dreamy. “They smell like Bunsen burners and chalkboards.”

“Um, yeah.” Ruby raised her eyebrows. “That does sound thrilling.” Abigail secretly thought it was kind of awesome. Being good at school was fine in elementary school, but she figured that might not be the case this year.

“I’ll read them with you when we make it down there,” she said. Ruby gave her a doubtful look. “What? There might be a book about lizards or dinosaurs or something. We should learn more about him--what if he gets sick or something? It’s not like he can go to a veterinarian!”

Eventually the security guard wandered into another part of the library, and the girls slipped downstairs. Fort showed Abigail all his new books, and she eagerly pored over an anatomy text that showed several drawings of lizards. She and Fort discussed whether he was more of a bird-hipped dragon or a lizard-hipped dragon until Ruby declared that they were both nuts and threw paper balls at them from behind a set of shelves.

***  
“Mom? Dad?” she called as she let herself in the apartment. It was dark and quiet. ‘Must still be at work,’ she thought. Her stomach was grumbling, so she decided to make a snack. The fridge was mostly empty, but she grabbed an apple and scooped some peanut butter into a bowl to dip it in. “Where are the knives?” she muttered. Nothing was in the same place it had been in their old house. Finally she found the right drawer and started slicing through the apple, daydreaming about Fort and his bird-like bones.

“Crap!” she yelped. Blood was pouring out of her finger. She dropped the knife and grabbed her finger. She peeked at it and tried not to faint. There was a pretty deep cut on the end. “Crap,” she said again. She yanked open a couple of kitchen drawers, trying to look through them without letting go of her finger. Blood was dripping out from around where she was squeezing it closed. “Damn,” she thought. “We don’t have any Band-Aids yet.” They were always in the kitchen drawer back home, but her parents hadn’t bought any new ones since they moved. She wrapped a towel around her hand and tried not to cry. “What am I going to do?” Even if she called her mom, it was at least half an hour from the university to their house, and if her dad was out running, he wouldn’t hear his phone. Suddenly, she had a thought. An embarrassing one, but it might be worth it.

She ran out of the apartment, towel clutched around her finger, and ran down to the elevator. She had to punch the up button with her elbow. “Four twenty-seven, four twenty-seven,” she repeated when she hopped off on the fourth floor, checking each apartment number until she found the right door.

When the door opened, there was Janice, her her long braids pulled up into a bun at the back of her head. She had her little girl slung on one hip. She stared at Abigail for a minute. “Are you selling Girl Scout cookies, honey? The doorman is supposed to buzz you up.”

“No, I live here! Do you remember me? I’m Abigail. We met one day, a while back? You walked me to the park because I didn’t know how to cross the street by myself? I just moved here? You were really nice, and you said if I needed anything to ask for help?” Abigail was talking faster and faster, worried that Janice was going to shut the door in her face. “I’m really sorry to bother you, it’s just that I’m home alone and I was trying to cut up an apple, and, well…” She held up the towel, now stained red with blood.

“Oh my gosh! From Virginia, right? Yeah, I remember you! God, come in! Where’s your mom and dad?”

“My mom’s at work and my dad’s out jogging, and they won’t be back for a little bit. Do you have a Band-Aid? I’m sure it’ll stop in a minute.” She was blushing and felt like an idiot.

Janice’s apartment was almost all white--white paint, white table, white cabinets. It was airy and pretty, even though it was scattered with toddler toys and there were a few stains on the carpet from where the baby had probably spilled her snacks. A cat was lounging by the window, and it lifted its head up to see if Abigail looked interesting. Apparently not; it clearly dismissed her and went back to staring out the window. On the living room wall was a large painting. Abigail stared at it: It was mostly abstract, all splotches of bright colors that stood out against the white walls, but it was a painting of Janice. Her hair had been brushed out into a big puff of curls around her head, and she was staring directly at the viewer, her eyes glowing. 

“Is that you?” Abigail asked as Janice led her over to the sink. “It’s so gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah, that’s when I was younger. I used to do some modeling. I did a couple photo shoots for J.Crew and a few for Gucci--that’s how I got through college, and it helped with the downpayment on this apartment. I’m a downtown girl--Midtown is a little fancy for me, but my husband likes it.”

“You’re a model?” said Abigail. She’d never met a real model before; it explained Janice’s perfect posture. She was so tall and regal--she really did look like someone you might see in a fashion show.

“I was, but not anymore. Come here, let me see your cut.” She carefully examined Abigail’s finger, running it under cold water. Abigail winced. “Sorry, honey.” She dried it and smeared some antibiotic cream on it. “You did a pretty good job on it, but I think you’ll be fine without stitches or anything.” She wrapped it up in a tight bandage.

“You gave up being a model? Why?” Abigail couldn’t imagine being pretty enough to be famous and not doing it.

“Oh, it’s super boring. Walk here, look this way, get dressed fifteen times in a row. Stand in high heels for ten hours. I quit years ago. Now I’m a psychologist. I used to be full time, but now with the baby, I only work a couple days a week.”

“Thank you so much,” said Abigail.

“No problem, it’s fine. I’m glad I could help! Are you guys doing okay? Are you all unpacked?” She scooped up her daughter, who was about to pull the cat’s tail. “Leave kitty alone, sweetheart.”

“Um, mostly.” Abigail wondered what a psychologist would say if she told her she was friends with a dragon. ‘Off to the mental hospital with you,’ probably. “We’re doing okay. Do your patients come here?” She figured the pretty white living room would be a nice place to tell someone all of your secrets, but Janice laughed.

“Oh, no! I have a practice a few blocks away. I mostly do couples therapy, you know, marriage counseling and that kind of thing.”

“Really?” Abigail’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, why? You and your husband need someone to talk to?” Janice teased. She set the baby down in a bouncer, and the little girl immediately began cooing and jumping up and down on her chubby little legs. Abigail laughed. Janice tipped her head to the side, giving Abby a piercing look. “Maybe you need somebody to talk to? Or your mom and dad do?”

“Us? No, we’re fine!” Abigail said. “No, we’re all good. Thanks, though! And thanks so much for the Band-Aid! That was really nice of you!” She held up her finger to show Janice that it had stopped bleeding. “I appreciate it!” She nearly ran for the door, not wanting Janice to ask her anything more questions.

“Hey, well, take this, at least.” Janice stuck her hand in a purse sitting near the door and pulled out a business card. “Janice Taylor, Clinical Psychologist. Specializing in Marital Therapy and Family Counseling,” it read. “Just in case.”

“Thanks!” Abigail grabbed it and stuck it in her back pocket, and pulled the door open.

“Bye bye!” the little girl shouted from her bouncer, waving cheerfully.

“Bye, sweetie!” Abby said. “Thanks again,” she said.

“No problem. Call or come by any time,” Janice said, smiling at Abigail in a motherly way. “Any time!” she called again, as Abigail shut the door and escaped.

***  
Abigail shut the door to her apartment and leaned against it, hands over her eyes. ‘What is wrong with you?’ she asked herself angrily. She didn’t know why she was so upset all of a sudden. Janice was so nice, with her sweet baby and her pretty apartment, and it was just too much. Abigail had been so tempted to just stay there, to curl up on Janice’s fluffy couch and let her cat crawl up in her lap, and tell Janice all about how scared she was of starting a new school, and how her parents’ silence filled up the air between them until there wasn’t space to even breathe, and how much she missed her little brother. She wanted to tell Janice about the dent in her wall in her old bedroom, the one she’d hidden for so long.

She pulled Janice’s business card out of her pocket and pressed it to her mouth. ‘Stop acting like such a baby,’ she told herself. But instead of throwing it away, she went in her room and carefully stashed it under her pillow, tucked in next to her mother’s stolen birthstone ring. Then she went back in the kitchen and cleaned the blood from her cut finger off the counters.


	26. Chapter 26

“Let’s get some candy. I’ll bet Fort’s never had a Snickers bar. My mom gave me some money.” They walked over to a newsstand up the street that they liked, and Abigail said hi to the clerk while Ruby picked out a handful of candy bars.

“You got any science magazines?” Abigail asked, trying to sound like Ruby. Her New York accent definitely needed some work. The clerk raised an eyebrow at her, but he pointed toward the end of the shelf of magazines and newspapers. 

“Got Scientific American and Popular Science. Down by the tabs.”

She rifled through the magazines, looking for anything about dinosaurs. She was curious about Fort’s biology. She shuffled through them, then sifted through the stacks of newspapers, when something caught her eye. “Oh no.”

***  
“Fort, how could you?!” 

Abigail shoved the tabloid in his face. “DINOSAUR IN CENTRAL PARK?!” the headline screamed. Next to it was a picture of a bunch of trees. It was dark and fuzzy, clearly taken at night, but in between them, standing upon his back legs and scratching his back on a tree, was Fort. 

“Oh,” said Fort. 

“You promised!” Ruby said. “You said you wouldn’t sneak out!”

“What were you thinking?”

“You lied to us,” Ruby said flatly. “You didn’t just find that door. You knew about it already.” Fort looked ashamed, his eyes dropping to the floor and his nictitating membrane flashing back and forth.

“I’m sorry.”

“What on earth were you thinking?” Abigail said.

“I just wanted to see what you guys see,” he whispered. “You’re always talking about the park. And it was so pretty! I kept to the shadows, I promise!”

“But this isn’t even Bryant Park!” Ruby exclaimed. “How did you get all the way Uptown? Central Park is blocks and blocks away!”

Fort looked proud of himself for a moment. “That’s pretty easy. Those huge buildings--what do you call them? Skyscrapers?--have big shadows. I can get from one to the next, no problem. I looked up security cameras on the Web of the Internets before I went out, so I’d know what to look for. They are quite easy to spot; I have better night vision than you do. I didn’t realize how open the park was, though. There wasn’t as much cover there.”

“Did you fly?” Abigail couldn’t help asking, and Ruby glared at her.

“Don’t encourage him!”

“No, I didn’t. I did meet a nice man, though!”

“What?!”

“Don’t worry, he won’t remember me. He was sitting in between the trees; I suspect he is homeless. I snuck up behind him because my back was itching and I wanted to try scratching it on the tree--We saw a video of bears doing that on the computer, remember, Ruby? They looked so happy!” 

“Forget the bears, what about the homeless dude?” Ruby snapped.  
“Oh, well, he was talking to himself. I listened for a long time, and he clearly was having a conversation with someone who wasn’t there. I think he must have been sick with one of those mental illnesses your people can get   
sometimes? Very sad. Eventually he got up and urinated on the tree I was hiding behind.”

“You saw a crazy homeless dude peeing on a tree, and you thought you should have a chat with him?” Ruby looked like she was going to faint.

“I figured he would not remember me,” Fort said. “So I said hello. After he screamed, he seemed quite nice. We chatted about how president was hiding aliens in someplace called Roswell, New Mexico. Have you been there? It sounds quite fascinating!” At Ruby’s glare, he quickly went on. “Eventually, he said he needed to go tell someone about how the aliens were sending dinosaurs now, and he left.” He frowned. “I suppose he must have had one of those cellular telephones like you carry, with a camera on it.”

“You’d better hope nobody believes him, picture or no!” Abigail warned. “Otherwise, we’re gonna be in big trouble!”


	27. Chapter 27

Abigail and Ruby scoured the tabloids for days after Fort’s little adventure in Central Park, but no further pictures of him appeared. After a few days, they relaxed, hoping that was the end of Fort’s desire to tour Manhattan.  
“Have you ever heard of a movie called Casablanca?” Abigail asked. She and her mom were eating spaghetti at the dinner table, and Abigail was keeping half an eye on the tv, where the news was on, making sure there was no mention of a homeless guy reporting seeing a giant dinosaur in Central Park.

“Of course,” her mom answered. “It’s a classic.” Her dad walked in and scooped some noodles out of the pot.

“The parmesan’s in here,” Abigail called. The two on them liked their spaghetti absolutely covered in parmesan cheese. He came over to the table and shook the cheese onto his plate, sliding into his seat absently as he carefully covered every square inch of pasta with it. “Do you remember when we watched it at that movie night in the park?” he asked Elizabeth. “There were a million mosquitoes, and it was so hot, and you totally cried anyway?”

“I cried because you spilled all our popcorn in the grass!” her mom protested with a grin.

“Sure you did,” her dad teased, and they smiled at each other over the dinner table. Abigail looked back and forth between them.

“Maybe we could watch it?” she suggested.

“That’s a good idea, honey,” her dad said, smiling at her. “If you wanted to?” he added uncertainly, looking at her mom. She looked hesitant, then smiled a bit.

“That would be nice. Family movie night.”

***  
Her mom actually made popcorn, heavy with butter and salt. She hadn’t done that in ages. They sat on the couch together, Abigail in the middle, with her parents on both sides of her. She had hoped they would sit next to each other--maybe they could accidentally brush hands reaching for the popcorn or something. ‘Don’t be stupid. That only happens in movies,’ she told herself. At least they were together.

“Oh, it’s so sad already,” her mom said with a sigh as the opening credits started. Her dad laughed.

“It hasn’t even started yet!” he protested.

“Yeah, but I know what’s coming.” Elizabeth curled her feet up on the couch and stuck them under Abigail’s leg.

“Mom, your feet are freezing!” she complained with a laugh.

They watched the old movie quietly, munching on popcorn, and Abigail had to admit that it was really romantic and sad, even though it was super old. She glanced back and forth between her mom and dad, the light from the tv reflecting off their faces. They looked happy, and for a minute, she let herself pretend that everything was fine.

***  
That night, she was awakened by the sounds of shouting. She opened her eyes in the dark, wondering if her parent were fighting. But it wasn’t her mom and dad; apparently their downstairs neighbors liked to yell at each other at night. It had happened once or twice before, and she was trying to get used to the noise. Her old house in the suburbs was quiet; they occasionally heard a car driving by, or a woodpecker pecking at their roof. (“Go away!” her dad would shout at the bird, waving his arms. “You’re pecking holes in my house!” Abigail would laugh hysterically at her dad, jumping up and down and shouting like a mania. The bird would look down at him, clearly decide that he wasn’t worth worrying about, and go back to pecking at their eaves.)

“It’s your fault!” she heard a woman yell through the floor.

“I didn’t do a damn thing!” a man shouted back. There was stomping and a thump. Abigail tried to tune them out. A fire truck went by, siren blazing. She squeezed her eyes shut, then gave up and got out of bed. She pulled the curtains aside and looked down at the street.

‘It’s so bright here,’ she thought, staring out the window. ‘No wonder Fort thinks we can’t see any stars.’ Even at night, the streetlights blazed and cars roared past, their headlights flashing on her wall. She remembered the trees in their old backyard and the playset she and James had played on. She grabbed her notebook and drew a quick picture of the street out her window, trying to block out the memories of their tree-filled backyard and her baby brother’s swing. Then, before she could stop herself, she sketched in James, as if he were standing on the sidewalk, looking up at her window. He as a bit taller than he had been in real life, with longer legs and a skinnier face. More like Abigail’s now that it had lost its baby chubbiness. His eyes were wide and sad, looking up at her in the streetlight, asking her why she let him get hurt.

Her dad had gotten hurt once. He’d been out running. Abigail had seen him run plenty of times, feet pounding the ground, eyes focused, running straight and fast. She had his long legs, but he was faster than her. (“I’m bigger than you, munchkin,” he would tell her, tugging gently on her ponytail, when she was sad that she couldn’t keep up with him. “You’ll be faster than me someday, I promise.”) He kept his eyes on the path ahead, whether it was on the gym track back home, or around Bryant Park here. But once in a while, something would throw him off--a rock in the pathway, a baby stroller pushed in front of him unexpectedly, a car horn honking--and he’d stumble and lose the rhythm.

It had happened not long after they moved. Her dad came home with a bleeding knee and torn running shorts. His eyes were red. Abigail’s mom jumped up when he came in, just like she would have Before. Like she cared. “What happened?” she cried.

“I fell,” Phillip said shortly.

“You fell? How?”

“It’s fine.” Now her mom looked irritated, frustrated that he wouldn’t tell her.

“What, did you trip over your own feet?” she snapped.

“I just fell,” he retorted. They glared at each other, her dad looking more and more pissed off. “Fine. I was over at the park by the swing sets, and this little boy fell off the swing, and his dad ran over and picked him up. I didn’t see the pothole until I stepped in it. Happy?”

Her mom’s face closed up, and Abigail knew she was seeing the same thing Abigail was--a little boy, safe in his dad’s arms. “Wash it off,” Elizabeth said hoarsely. “It’ll get infected.” Then she turned and went into the bedroom and shut the door.

Abigail, huddled on the couch, could almost run her hands over the wall between them, a wall the exact size and shape of a six-year-old boy. A wall with a dent in it just like the one hidden behind her desk back home.

***  
“It’s your fault!” the woman downstairs shouted again, and something thumped against the wall. Abigail saw her bedroom wall in her mind, the little dent behind her desk. James crying. The empty seat at the dinner table. Her father’s face as he tore down their old swing set. Her mom’s favorite dark blue dress, long gone. She had worn it to the funeral, and when they got home, she took it off in the middle of the kitchen, stuffed it in the garbage, and yanked the whole garbage bag out of the trash can. She had taken it out to the garbage container outside in only her bra and underwear, and when she came back in, she went in her room and didn’t come out for a long time.  
Suddenly, Abigail couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to tell someone. She threw on her shoes and pulled a pair of jeans on with her pajama tee-shirt. She shoved her keys in her pocket and then quietly opened her bedroom door. The living room was dark, and her parents’ door was closed. Luckily, her dad wasn’t sleeping on the couch tonight.

She snuck through the living room and pulled open the front door as quietly as she could, listening for any sound from her parents’ bedroom. Hearing none, she slipped through the door and raced down the hallway.  
Down the stairs, out the lobby, past the dozing night doorman. Down the dark street, pretending there was nothing weird about a twelve-year-old girl practically running down the road by herself in the middle of the night. She leapt over the legs of a sleeping homeless person and found the grating nearest to Fort’s nest.

“Fort!” she whispered urgently down into the grating. She hoped he could hear her. Her voice sounded strange, and she realized she was crying. “Fort! I need you!” She was almost shouting now, unable to help herself.

“Abigail?”

“Push up the grate! I need to come in!” She could see his big eyes through the grate. He shoved it up with his nose, and she yanked it aside.

“I’ll catch you,” he said, seeing the tears on her cheeks. Without a thought, she jumped down into the black hole in the ground, flying for a moment, until she landed in Fort’s arms, cradled like a baby. He stared down at her for a moment, seeing her wet eyes and red cheeks. “Abigail, what is wrong?” he asked, holding her close.

“I killed my brother.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Sit down, I will make you some tea. Then tell me.”

Abigail sat on a pile of books, shifting them around until she was tucked into them just like Fort always was. A moment later, he pressed a steaming cup of chamomile into her hands.  
“For relaxation.” He settled himself next to her, wrapping his tail around her. He smelled a bit like dust and old books, and he was warm.  
“Now. Tell me what has happened.” She stared down at the tea for a minute.

“It’s my fault he’s dead. James. I did it.” She turned her face away in shame. “He was annoying me and he wouldn’t get out of my room. I wanted him to leave my stuff alone. I yelled at him to get out, and I pushed him. Hard. He fell and hit his head on the wall. It left a dent in the wall where he hit it. His head left a dent in my wall.” She was crying now, tears running down her cheeks. “I didn’t want Dad to know, so I ran and got James an ice pack, and I pushed my desk in front of the mark on the wall. I told him to stop crying and I gave him a hug because I didn’t want Mom and Dad to hear him. There was a big bump on his head, but I put the ice on it for a while until he said it was too cold. I thought he was okay. He was ready to play again in just a couple of minutes! He even said he was sorry for making me push him, that he just wanted to play.” Her shoulders shook with sobs. “He apologized to me! When I’m the one who did it!”

She took a shuddery breath and looked up at Fort. “I thought he was fine. But two days later, he woke up crying and saying that his eyes weren’t working right, and that his head hurt. My parents freaked out and took him to the hospital. He went blind the next day. And he started screaming from the pain. They had to put him to sleep and hook him to all these machines. He had about a hundred scans and MRIs and x-rays. They tried radiation and all these medicines. They said it was in a place where they couldn’t do surgery. He died thirty-two days later.”

***  
Fort held her for a long time. She cried until she ran out of tears, the teacup shaking in her hands. “He used to pedal his bike up and down the driveway, and my dad would yell at him not to get too close to the road. They drew this chalk line across the driveway, and wrote ‘STOP!’ in huge letters next to it. I thought they were crazy--why wouldn’t he just ride across it into the street? But he stopped at the line every time, and he would point at the word and shout ‘Stop!’ at the top of his lungs.” She rubbed her eyes. “It was the first word he learned to read. He was so proud of it.”

“I am sure he was a sweet child,” Fort said kindly. “If he was anything like you.” Abigail gave a damp smile.

“He didn’t look anything like me. I look like my mom, and he looked just like my dad. He had the same laugh as me, though. My parents always laughed when we did, because we sounded exactly alike. He played with these little cars; have you ever seen those little toy cars? The metal ones? Kids push them around on the floor and pretend to drive them. He loved those things; he had about a million of them. My mom kept them. They’re in a box under her bed. I don’t know what she’s going to do with them. Probably leave them there forever.” Suddenly she felt her throat close up again. “I’m starting to forget what his laugh sounded like. Mine’s different now, because I’m bigger, and I can’t remember what his sounded like.”

“Perhaps you should play with them,” Fort said gently. Abigail looked up, confused.

“Play with them?”

“The cars. They are a part of him that you still have. Perhaps they should not be stuck under a bed in the dark.” He hugged her, and she took a shuddery breath.

“Maybe not,” she said. Fort held her for a long time.

***  
“I’ve gotta go,” Abigail said a bit later, once she’d wiped her eyes and calmed down a bit. “My dad gets up early to go running, and he’ll freak out if I’m not in my room.” She sometimes heard him quietly pushing her door open and peeking in to check on her.

“I will take you,” Fort said.

“No, you can’t! You know what happened last time!”

“I’ve learned my lesson--I can keep out of sight.” He gently rubbed her back. “I will take you out the vent, and no one will see us. It is too dark and too late for you to be walking home alone. You will ride.” Abigail’s eyes widened.

***  
Abigail bit her lip to keep from screaming, and she wasn’t even sure if it was from terror or excitement. She clung to Fort’s neck, her legs wrapped tightly around him. He was like a snake, flashing from one shadow to another, zipping between the streetlights unseen. He was warm and so strong; she could feel the muscles in his neck tensing and releasing as he raced down the street. He was almost silent, nothing but the clicking of his claws marking their passage. ‘I am riding a dragon!’ she told herself.

“This is insane,” she said in his ear.

“This is amazing,” he rumbled in return. She could see him grinning as he darted from doorway to doorway. His wings fluttered behind her, not unfolding entirely, but stretching as the wind flew through them.

“Ruby is never gonna forgive me for riding on your back without her,” Abigail laughed. “She’s gonna be so mad!” She felt lighter than she had in ages. “I feel like I’m flying.” Fort flexed his wings in response, flapping once, and just for a moment, she felt his feet lift off the ground, and she gasped. “Fort!”

“Not quite flying, but close enough,” he said with a chuckle, skidding to a stop at the corner of her building.She squeezed his neck and then slid down, landing on the sidewalk with a bounce.

“You’ll be able to get back okay?” she asked.

“I will be fine. Will you be all right?”

“Better, I think,” she said warmly. “Thank you. For everything. For being my friend.”

“And thank you, Abigail. You have changed everything for me, you know. I haven’t had a home in such a long, long time.” He looked down at her, and suddenly she could see all of the two thousand years that he had lived in his eyes. He seemed so innocent, tucked away from the world with his snout in a book, that she often thought of him as younger than she was, almost a child, but when he looked up at the barely visible stars, remembering the heat and sand and black nights of ancient Egypt, she could see how old he truly was, and how long he had been alone. “I hope I can help you get your home back, too,” he said. “I have found that when you lose something precious, you may want to pretend it never existed, but that doesn’t work. Remembering pain is hard, but it can make living with it easier.” He stroked her cheek gently with a sharp claw. “Now, get to bed, and I will see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Fort.”

“Good night, Abigail Hart.”


	29. Chapter 29

Abigail was awakened the next morning by her phone buzzing. It went off over and over, vibrating against her desk. “What?” she mumbled at it, irritated. “It’s so early.” She grabbed at it, assuming that Ruby needed her for something.  
'I am coming to New York!'

'WAKE UP!'

'Come on, what are you doing? I’ll be there next week!'

Abigail’s eyes were wide as she read the messages over and over. It wasn’t Ruby at all--it was Lacy. Lacy, her old best friend! Her secret-language-speaking, Johnny’s-Best-Burgers-loving, best-friends-since-first-grade best friend! Coming to New York?

'What?????' Abigail sent back. It took a few minutes, and then her screen filled up with a text the length of a novel.

'My mom is bringing me up there! Just for one day! There’s this shopping trip thing she signed us up for! We’re taking a bus up there Friday night, all night, and we’ll be in Manhattan Saturday morning. We’re there all day, and then Saturday night, we get back on the bus and come back home. I saw an ad for it online and I begged her and begged her and she said YES! I didn’t want to tell you in case she didn’t let us come. You can meet us Saturday morning at Grand Central Station, right? We can spend the whole day shopping and doing all kinds of big city stuff! I CAN’T WAIT!'

Abigail was stunned. She found herself clutching her mom’s birthstone ring in one hand, squeezing it. Lacy, in Manhattan? She had been dying to see her, missing her old friends so much. But she felt odd. What about Ruby? And Fort? She sat up in bed, trying to figure out what she was feeling. ‘Lacy is coming to visit, and you’re being stupid,’ she told herself. Butshe knew Ruby might not be thrilled about Lucy’s visit. They had spent nearly every single day together since they met. She wondered how Fortitude would feel. ‘Do dragons even get jealous?’ she wondered, before shaking her head. It would be fine.

'I can’t wait! That’s super awesome!!!' she replied, then shoved the ring back under her pillow and jumped out of bed, determined that she was, in fact, very happy. 

She ran to her parents’ room to tell them Lacy’s visit, and found her mom frantically digging through her jewelry box. “Where is it? Where is it?” her mom was saying to herself. “It’s gotta be here!” Abigail realized her mom must be looking for the birthstone ring. She bit her lip nervously. She was gonna get in trouble for taking it, but she was surprised her mom even noticed it was missing. It had just been shoved in her jewelry box, after all, tucked way in the back. It wasn’t like she wore it anymore.

Just as she opened her mouth to confess that she had the ring in her room, her mom yanked open of the lower dresser drawers, banging it hard into Abigail’s shins and nearly knocking her down.  
“Ow!” she yelped, jumping back.

“Get out of the way, Abigail!” her mom shouted, furiously digging through the drawer. “Can’t you see you’re in my way? God!” Abigail glared at her. She banged into Abigail, pushing her away as she shoved clothes around in the drawer. Abigail stumbled aside.

“Fine!” she shouted. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you any more!” And she stomped back to her room and slammed the door. ‘Let her think she lost it,’ she thought spitefully, sticking her hand under her pillow to make sure the ring was still tucked safely underneath. ‘She deserves it.’ She flopped down and rubbed at her bruised shin hard, making it hurt more.

***  
Later that day, she sent her dad a text message telling him about Lacy’s visit.

'That’s awesome, honey!' he replied. 'I’ll take you to the train station to meet them and make sure you guys can get around okay.' He hadn’t been home all day, so she assumed her mom hadn’t bothered to tell him about the missing ring or how she almost knocked Abigail down and yelled at her. ‘Whatever,’ she thought, stomping into the library. Then she steeled herself: Ruby had gotten there early that morning and was already playing with Fort. He was whipping his tail back and forth along the floor, and Ruby was jumping over it, faster and faster, like a bizarre game of jump rope, and they were both laughing.

“So, I have some exciting news!” Abigail said nervously. She told them about Lacy’s visit. “She’ll be here all next Saturday,” she told Ruby and Fort nervously. “So I won’t be here. Please don’t be mad,” she added urgently, grabbing Ruby’s hand. Ruby looked down, pulling her glasses off and fiddling with them. 

“Why would I be mad? She’s your friend. It’s fine. I’ll hang out with my mom and dad. Have fun.” Abigail sighed.

The next few days were awkward and awful. Ruby was standoffish and quiet, spending most of her time talking to Fort and finding more old books for him to read. She didn’t show up to the art class she and Abigail were taking in the evenings. Abigail collected enough bits of fabric and string from the instructor for both of them to make textile collages, hoping Ruby was just running late, but ten minutes after class had started, Abigail’s phone buzzed.

'Not gonna be there tonight. Samira’s got a cold.'

Abigail threw her phone down on the table, narrowly missing getting it in the paint she was using. ‘Such a jerk. Why can’t she just be happy for me? It’s not like Lacy is moving here!’ The whole week, she went back and forth between feeling guilty for making Ruby jealous and being angry that Ruby wasn’t happy for her.

Friday night, Lacy texted her six times. 'On our way! This train is crazy--it’s so loud. There’s a restaurant!' She sent a picture of herself eating dinner in a train car, a blur going by out the window. It was pretty cool.

'I’ll be there in the morning!' Abigail replied. 'My dad is taking me to Grand Central to meet you guys.'

***  
“Did this used to be a church?” Abigail asked wonderingly, craning her neck to look around. Grand Central Station was huge, even for New York. “It’s so pretty.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. It’s just a train station, though, not a church. Just a really pretty one,” her dad said. It was so early in the morning that the station wasn’t crowded. Abigail hopped up in down in nervous excitement, waiting for Lacy’s train to arrive. Finally it pulled in, honking loudly.

“There she is!” Abigail crowed. Lacy climbed off the train, looking around for Abigail. “Lacy!” She waved frantically.

“Abby!” Lacy ran over, her mom trailing behind her, and threw her arms around Abigail.

“Oh my God, your hair!” Abigail exclaimed. “It’s so short!” Lacy’s brown waves had been almost as long as Abigail’s when she left, and now they barely reached her shoulders.

“I know, isn’t it crazy? I cut it all off right before Jeanette’s birthday party last month.” Abigail winced as they walked out of the station. Jeanette was kind of annoying, but she and Lacy had hung out the whole time in fourth grade when Abigail was out of school for almost two weeks with pneumonia.

“Do you have a schedule?” Phillip was asking Lacy’s mom. She pulled a map out of her pocket and unfolded it.

“Yep, shopping on Fifth Avenue, Central Park, and then the bus tour this afternoon. Dinner, and then back on the bus! I’m tired already,” she said with a laugh.

“Well, Fifth Avenue is easy enough--it’s just a couple of blocks. I’ll walk you, and then you guys can explore!” They tromped down the street.

***  
Shopping was weird. It was so awesome being with Lacy, but she wanted to go in all the super fancy, expensive stores. “Nobody really shops in those,” Abigail tried to tell her, but they toured Tiffany (where the diamonds were, in fact, really gorgeous) and Ferragamo, where Lacy picked up a pair of shoes, saw that they were nine hundred dollars, and immediately dropped them on the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m going to get in trouble!” she said, horrified.

“You’re not, just put them back,” Abigail shushed her, balancing the shoes back on their stand. “It’s fine as long as you just act like you’re supposed to be here.”

They walked past the library, and Abigail posed with Lacy right next to the lion statue of Fortitude so Lacy’s mom could take a picture. She felt a stab a guilt at not taking them inside, but Ruby was home with her parents, and Fort was her secret. It’s not like she could exactly explain Fort to Lacy in five minutes, could she? She bit her lip, but then Lacy said, “Come on, we have a library at home! How far is it to Times Square? I wanna see all those crazy theater signs that they show on New Years Eve.”

For lunch, Lacy insisted on pizza. “We’re in New York, we’ve gotta get pizza!” Her mom agreed. She’d been snapping pictures of the streets and buildings all morning, letting the girls talk.

“There’s a good place for a slice down here,” Abigail said, leading them down the block.

“You sound so funny,” Lacy giggled. “You totally sound like a New Yorker now. ‘A slice.’”

“Yeah?” Abigail asked, surprised. She couldn’t tell any difference, although she’d stopped noticing Ruby’s accent ages before. They all grabbed pizza, although Lacy refused to fold hers to eat it the way Abigail tried to show her. Ruby had taught her how to do it one lunchtime, and Abby had to admit it was easier to walk and eat if you folded the pizza up a bit.

“That’s dumb,” she said. “Why would you fold a piece of pizza in half? You can’t taste any of the toppings that way!”

“I dunno, it’s just how we do it,” Abigail said. “You gotta fold it or it’s just not right.”

After lunch, Lacy’s mom consulted her map several times, eventually finding the place to get on the bus tour. She bought their tickets and they climbed aboard. “It’s too sunny up top; I’m gonna sit down here,” she told the girls, taking a seat on the lower level of the bus. “You guys go up there and have fun, but don’t bother anybody.”

They climbed the stairs and were lucky enough to find seats right at the front of the bus, over the driver.

“Dude, we can see everything from up here!” Lacy marvelled. “This is awesome!”

It really was. Abigail had gotten so distracted by teaching Fort about the wonders of e-books, sneaking around with Ruby, and worrying about starting school, that she’d kind of stopped noticing the city. She pointed out the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center to Lacy as they rode around.

“God, it kinda smells, doesn’t it?” Lacy asked when they stopped at a red light next to a particularly grimy alley.

“Yeah, that’s just the pee,” Abigail said.

“Eww!” Lacy nudged her with her shoulder. “So, how’s it been?” she said quietly. “How’s your mom and dad doing?” Lacy had known James. She had played with him lots of times when they were little. She even came to his funeral. Abigail looked down at her knees.

“I dunno. My mom’s been working a lot. I mostly hang out at the library. And there’s so much to do here, I don’t have time to get bored.”

“You’re lucky. It’s boring at home. Except that I’ve been taking horseback riding lessons, which is cool. And me and Jeanette are gonna try out for basketball this year! So we’ve been practicing a lot.”

“That’s cool.” They lapsed into silence, watching the city go by. Abigail tried to think of something to talk about, but all she could think was, ‘Would you believe me if I told you I have a dragon? And he lives in the basement of the New York Public Library? And I think I have a new best friend who’s not you?’ She bit her lip.

“Look, there’s the Statue of Liberty!” she finally said, pointing across the water.

“Cool!” Lacy yanked her phone out and snapped a picture. “She’s littler than I thought she would be. Pretty, though.”

***  
The rest of the bus tour was punctuated by Lacy taking pictures and Abigail pointing out the sights. Lacy got sunburned and she laughed hard when Abigail almost got pooped on by a pigeon. They climbed off the bus eventually as the sun got lower in the sky, and Lacy’s mom took them to the Hard Rock Cafe for dinner. It was a rock’n’roll themed restaurant, and the walls were covered with music memorabilia, like old records and concert posters and stuff like that. Abigail tried not to feel snotty about it, but the place was full of tourists--There wasn’t anything of the real city in it. ‘You sound just like Genna,’ she told herself. ‘It’s not their fault they’re not from here.’  
“Look, Elvis’s guitar!” she said, pointing at one of the heavily decorated walls.

“Let me get a picture!” Lacy said.

***  
By the time the day was over, Abigail’s feet were aching and Lacy was hot and exhausted. They followed Lacy’s mom back to the train station, and Lacy’s mom hugged Abigail goodbye just as Abby’s dad walked up to take her home. He helped her load their bags, stuffed with souvenirs, onto the bus.

“Thanks for coming,” Abigail said awkwardly. ‘God, she’s not some neighbor kid you had to invite to your birthday party,’ she thought. She grabbed Lacy’s hand. “I’m really glad you did. I’ve missed you a lot. It’s so weird here.”

“It is weird,” Lacy said. “Everything’s so big and loud and crazy.” She squeezed Abby’s hand. “But I like it. And you do too. I can tell.” She grinned, and Abigail threw her arms around her.

“Eat a Johnny’s burger for me, will you?” she whispered in Lacy’s ear. “And good luck with the basketball team. You and Jeanette are gonna do great.” She felt Lacy give a little sob.

“I’ll order two of them next time we go, one for you.” They squeezed each other again. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Lace.” Abigail wiped her damp eyes, and Lacy stepped up onto the bus stairs. She looked up at the high ceiling, light streaming in through the tall windows.

“Goodbye, New York!” she called to the city. “Bye, Ab,” she said affectionately.

“Bye, Lace.” Abigail watched as Lacy climbed into the bus. As the bus engine roared to life, she stepped backward, and her dad put his arm around her shoulders.

“Kinda weird, seeing them here, huh, kid?”

“It really was,” she agreed. The bus pulled away into the madness of Manhattan traffic, and Abby waved one last time at Lacy’s face in the window, hidden behind a reflection of one of the tall buildings. “Can we get a cab home, Dad? My feet are killing me.”


	30. Chapter 30

“Where is it?” Abigail asked herself, shuffling through the papers and mess on her desk. She couldn’t find her sketchbook. “What did I do with it?” She tried to think back. She had gotten a snack when she got back from the library. Fort had been practicing his flying, and she and Ruby had laughed themselves silly as the wind from his flapping wings pressed them back against the basement walls, making birds’ nests of their hair. He had actually lifted off the ground for a few moments while they cheered. Ruby had been back to her old self after Lacy went back to Virginia, teasing Abigail about being slow to sneak through the door to Fort’s basement.

“Come on, how are we gonna become super spies if you get us caught by security in a freaking library?” she teased.

“You’re the spy,” Abigail retorted. “I’m gonna be a doctor, which you’re gonna need if you’re doing assassinations in Eastern Europe or whatever. James Bond gets beat up all the time.” Fort had insisted they watch a bunch of old Bond movies he found online. (“Do you think they make tuxedos in dragon size?” he had asked as Abigail and Ruby laughed. “I very much like that suit.” He preened, stroking the end of his tail over the two little horns that poked out over his years. They were sharp and pointed, but only a few inches long, and Abigail secretly thought they looked like giraffe horns, although she would never tell him that. He was quite proud of them. “You would look super handsome, Fort,” Abigail soothed. “We’d have to find you a girl dragon to rescue.” Ruby snorted. “I’m pretty sure girl dragons can rescue themselves just fine.”)

***  
‘The kitchen counter,’ Abigail realized. She had pulled the notebook out of her pocket, intending to sketch Fort’s widespread wings, and she had set it down while she made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  
She skipped out of her room and stopped dead in the middle of the hall.

“What are you doing?!” Abigail stared in shock. Her mom was standing in the kitchen, flipping through her notebook, her face white.

“What is all this?” her mom demanded.

“Those are private! Give it back!” She wanted to throw up. Her mom had seen all the drawings she had done of Fort. Suddenly her mom flipped the book around.

“What is this?” she shouted.

It was a picture of James. Abigail had sketched him sitting curled up in Fort’s tail reading Goodnight Moon. He was older than he had ever been in real life, with shaggier hair and longer legs, as if he had had the chance to grow into a big kid. Her dad suddenly appeared in the kitchen, hearing the shouts.

“What is going on in here?”

“Why are you drawing him?” her mom yelled again, ignoring Phillip. “All these drawings, as if he was still here? Making him older? What the hell, Abigail?” She was furious, crying, flipping through the pages. “Why are you pretending he’s growing up? He’s not growing up!”

“What does it matter?” Abigail screamed back, furious. “Those are mine!”

“This isn’t real!” her mom shouted. “He’s gone! He’s never coming back!” She was clutching the notebook, open to the picture of the view out Abigail’s window, James standing on the sidewalk, as if he had been able to come with them to their new home. Her father paled, seeing the picture of his son.

“I know he’s not coming back!” Abigail screamed. “Do you think I don’t know that? What do you care? All you care about is pretending he doesn’t exist! You’re never even here! You work all the time, and Dad just locks himself in his room and pretends to write, and you both act like I don’t exist! I should be dead too! You hate me because I’m here and he’s not!” she shrieked.  
Her parents were shocked silent. They glanced at each other, then her dad spoke.

“We don’t hate you, Abby.”

“Well, you should!” she shrieked, unable to stop herself. “It’s all my fault anyway!” Her parents stared at her, confused.

“Your fault? What do you mean?”

“It’s my fault he’s dead!” Suddenly Abby was sobbing and couldn’t stop. She threw herself down on the couch. “We were fighting and he hit his head and I didn’t want you to know so I told him to stop crying and then he got sick and it’s all my fault!” She slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes round with fear.

Her parents looked stunned. There was no sound. This was it. It was finally out. She waited for her mom to start shouting at her again. She felt two hands land gently on her back, wrapping around her in a hug. Her crying slowed. She looked up at her mom and dad.

“Honey, it was not your fault,” her mom said, tears flowing down her face. She put a hand up to Abigail’s cheek and wiped away her tears. Her dad was crying too, and he reached over and took Abigail’s hand where it lay in her lap.

“James had cancer, sweetie. It wasn’t anything to do with you. It was terrible and fast and I wish it hadn’t happened, but you didn’t have anything to do with it. Neither did he. It was just a disease. I promise.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Her mom reached over and took her other hand.

“If anything, it was my fault,” her mom said quietly. “I should have been watching him closer. Maybe if I’d noticed something sooner. Maybe I could have gotten him to the doctor before…” She bent her head, crying.  
Her dad shifted, gathering his wife’s hand along with Abigail’s so they were all three holding hands.

“I should have too,” he said. “But it wasn’t our fault either.” Elizabeth looked up at him, surprised. “I never thought it was your fault, honey. Did you think it was mine?” She shook her head hard.

“Of course not! You were the best dad ever! You still are,” she added, squeezing her arm around Abigail. “I never blamed you for it.”

“And you were a great mom.” He paused. “I’ve really missed you since James died.” Her parents looked at each other, and Abigail went still.

“I’ve missed you too,” her mom whispered.

“Bethie, I love you. And I love Abigail. And I love James. That hasn’t changed. I just wish...I just want you back.” Her mother sobbed and threw her arms around her dad. 

“I love you too. I miss him all the time. But I want to be with you too.”

“I do too.” He reached one arm out and pulled Abigail into their hug, and they cried together.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been such a terrible mom.” Her mom ran her hand over Abby’s hair. Abby wanted to comfort her, but she couldn’t.

“Yeah, you have,” she said, and her mom’s eyes widened, red and swollen from crying. “But I know it’s because of James. I know you wish he was here.”

“I do, more than anything. I miss him every minute. But you’re here, and you need a mom too. I’m so sorry. I’ll try to do better. You’re an amazing kid, and you deserve to have me here for you.”

Abigail hugged her mom hard. “Thanks, Mom.” She paused. “Um, I’ve got something to tell you.” Her mom frowned. “I’ve got your ring. The one with mine and James’s birthstones. I was in your room that day that you stayed home from work, and I saw it in your jewelry box. You had left the drawer open! I didn’t mean to look through your stuff. Anyway, I missed him so much, and I just took it. It’s in my room, under my pillow.”

Elizabeth’s eyes overflowed again. “Oh, God, thank you, honey! I mean, I’m mad that you took it, but I’m so glad it’s not lost! I was so upset that I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t stand the thought that I lost something I had left of the two of you.”

Her dad gave a damp smile and squeezed his wife’s waist. “I think we both need to remember that we’re still a family. We’re still James’s parents. That won’t ever change. But we’re Abby’s parents too.” He looked at Elizabeth uncertainly. “And I’m still your husband. I hope you still want to be my wife.”

Elizabeth smiled at him in a way he hadn’t seen in two years. “I do. So much. I’ve never stopped loving you. I think about you all the time; I just couldn’t seem to get past thinking about James to reach out to you.” They squeezed each other’s hands. She looked down, suddenly shy. “You know that our anniversary is coming up?”

“Of course! You remembered? I thought maybe you didn’t want to think about it.”

“I do. Could we, maybe, do something? Go out?” She looked over at Abby. “If you don’t mind, I mean? I promise I’ll be home more and do a better job, but would you mind if me and your dad went out for dinner or   
something?”

“Of course not! I would love that. You guys should--you need it. I’ll hang out with Ruby.”

Her mom and dad smiled at each other, real smiles. “It’s a date,” her dad said. “And maybe after that, we could go out and do something as a family. We’ve been living here for months, and we’ve hardly seen any of the city. We should go up the Empire State Building and take the ferry over to Staten Island. You know, be tourists!” Abigail was horrified.

“No, Dad! We’re not tourists! We’re new New Yorkers!” Her parents laughed.

“We should ask somebody who’s from here where real New Yorkers go to enjoy the city,” her mom said with a watery smile. “Maybe I can ask someone from work.” Abigail thought for a moment, and then jumped up from the couch.

“Hold on!” She ran in her room and was back in just a moment. She stood in front of her mom uncertainly.

“First, this is yours. I’m really sorry.” She unfolded her hand, and the birthstone ring was sitting in her palm. Her mom’s face lit up, her eyes soft.

“Oh. There it is.” She gently picked up the ring and slipped it on her finger. It still fit perfectly.

“It’s beautiful,” Phillip said. “You should wear it instead of keeping it in the box.”

“I really should,” Elizabeth agreed.

“And there’s something else. Someone else, I mean.” Abigail sat back down between her parents and pulled Janice’s business card out of her pocket. “There’s this lady, Janice, up on the fourth floor. She’s really nice. She’s from here and knows all about the city. She used to be a model--she’s really gorgeous--but now she’s a counselor or a therapist or something. I’ve met her a couple of times. Anyway, we could talk to her.” Her voice dropped. “Or you guys could. Maybe. She does marriage counseling,” she added quietly. She held out the card to them.

Phillip took the card and looked at it for a long moment. “Maybe it would be a good idea,” he said, looking at Elizabeth.

“It might.” They held hands as he carefully put it in his pocket.


	31. Chapter 31

A few days later, Ruby and Abigail were looking through the magazines at their favorite shop, the one with the one-legged owner.  
“Oh, look, it’s the tourist!”

‘Please, no,’ Abigail thought.  
She heard laughter behind her, and Ruby looked over her shoulder.

“Are you having fun on your visit?” Genevieve said smugly when Abigail turned around to face her. “Have you taken the bus tour yet? I hear it only smells like pee about ninety percent of the time.”

“What is your problem, Genna?” Ruby snapped, and Genevieve’s glared at her.

“Sorry, are you talking to me?” Genna demanded. “Aren’t you a little young to be out by yourselves? Shouldn’t you be in daycare or something?” Ruby rolled her eyes and turned around.

“Just ignore her,” she muttered. Abigail tried to, turning around and picking up a random magazine, pretending to read it. One of Genna’s little sycophants shoved past her to grab some gum, pushing on Abigail’s purse to get her out of the way.

“Get off me,” Abigail muttered, shoving back. She could see Genna talking quietly to the shop owner while she paid for her stuff, and they both looked over at her suddenly, Genna muttering urgently. Then Genna gestured at her friends, and they walked out of the shop fast, giggling and whispering.

“Let me see your purse!” the manager shouted suddenly, charging out from behind the counter with the crutch he used to balance his missing leg.

“What?” Abigail said dumbly. Several adults in the shop looked up, wondering what was going on.

“Your purse! Are you stealing from me? Let me have it!” He grabbed at her.

“No way! Get off me! I’m not stealing anything!” She jerked back from him, and he grabbed her arm hard.

“That girl said she saw you putting stuff in your bag! Open it up!” He yanked her purse away from her, and the strap tore. It spilled open, dumping out a pack of fancy ponytail holders. The manager’s eyes almost bugged out.

“What? I didn’t take those!” Abigail was horrified. Ruby looked petrified.

“She didn’t!” Ruby protested. “She wouldn’t steal anything!”

“I should call the police!” the man thundered. “Get back here!” He pulled Abigail behind the counter so she couldn’t leave.

“I swear, I didn’t take them! That girl must have shoved them in my purse.” She was frantic. “Look, I have money!” She pulled her allowance out of her pocket. “Why would I steal them when I could have bought them?”

“You think spoiled little rich kids don’t steal stuff?” the store owner snapped.

“I swear, I didn’t steal them! That girl, she hates me. I just moved here and she’s been bothering me ever since. I promise! Her name is Genna; she’s a total jerk!”

“She is,” Ruby chimed in. “Her mom runs the private school down the street, and she gets in trouble all the time. Abby wouldn’t steal anything, I swear!”  
The man stared down at them.

“I won’t call the police,” he said finally. Abigail almost cried with relief. “If you will give me your parents’ phone number. If they’ll come get you, I’ll let them take you home.”

Abigail wanted to cry. What would her mom and dad say? They would be so furious. She glanced at Ruby, who looked as scared as she felt. She shrugged a tiny bit, her expression saying, “What choice do we have?”

“Okay.” Abigail gave the guy her dad’s number. She wanted to throw up. She tried not to listen as the man had a conversation with her dad. In just a minute, he hung up the phone.

“Your dad is on the way,” he said.

Less than five minutes later, her dad pounded through the shop door. Abigail started crying. She couldn’t help herself.

“I’m so sorry!” she cried.

“Abigail!” he thundered.

“I didn’t steal anything, I swear!” She was sobbing. Her dad looked furious, his eyebrows pulled together and his jaw clenched.

“She didn’t,” Ruby said. She quickly told him about Genna and how she’d been bothering them. “She’s a total bully,” Ruby finished. Phillip looked a little less angry. He looked up at the shop owner, who was wiping his hands off after cutting some turkey for a customer.

“What do we need to do to make this right?” he asked.

“I told her if she let me call you, I wouldn’t call the police.” The man frowned. “That girl has come in here before with her friends. One time they knocked over all the chips and ran out before I could tell them to clean up the   
mess.” He looked down at Abigail. “But if I catch you doing anything sketchy in here again, I’m not calling your parents next time!”

“I swear, I won’t!” Abigail promised.  
Her dad thanked the man profusely and herded Abigail and Ruby out of the shop.

“Dad, I swear I didn’t steal anything,” she started as they walked down the street. He looked down at her.

“It’s been a hard couple of days for all of us,” he said with a frown. “A hard couple of years. And you’re getting to the age where kids start to do stuff like shoplifting.”

“No, I didn’t!” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Dad, you gotta believe me. I know this summer has been crazy and I didn’t want to come here and all, but I wouldn’t steal anything. That girl Genna did it.” He looked at her hard, blond hair falling into his eyes.

“I believe you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, honey. If you say you didn’t take that stuff, than you didn’t.”

“Thank you, Dad!” She hugged him.

“Ruby, are you okay?” He looked down at Ruby, handing back from them. “You know that girl?”

“Yeah, she goes to my old school. She’s part of the reason I’m changing to Abby’s school. We won’t have to see her once school starts, I hope. She’s awful.”

“Okay, but I want to talk to your parents about this.” He walked Ruby back to her building and they went upstairs.

After Phillip finished explaining what had happened to Ruby’s mom, and she and Ruby shared a hug, he walked Abigail home. They held hands, which they hadn’t done since she was little.  
“Are you okay, kid?”

“I guess. I’m sorry that you had to deal with all that.”

“Hey, I’m the parent. I’m supposed to keep you from having to deal with stuff like this.” He sighed. “But it gets harder every year. My mom, your grandma, told me when you were born that I would never stop worrying about you, but that the older you got, the harder it would get. ‘You never stop worrying about your kids,’ she said. ‘But as they get bigger, their problems do too.’ And she was right. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s okay, Dad. School will start soon, and then that girl Genna won’t be around much anymore.”

“I know, but I still wish I could make this not have happened for you.” He paused. “I wish I could make a lot of things not have happened.” His eyes grew sad, and she knew he was thinking of James.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dad,” she said quietly. “Like Mom said, it was just that disease. Pontine glioma,” she said, carefully pronouncing the words. Her parents had talked to her about it for a long time after their fight. She had looked it up on her phone. It was a cancer that had grown in James’s brain, way down low in the back near his neck. She had found a drawing of where in the brain it was, and then she cried for a long, long time, clutching her phone. In relief, not sadness. The location of the tumor wasn’t anywhere near where he had hit his head on her wall. It really wasn’t her fault.

“I know,” he said. “But just because we can say that, doesn’t make it hurt less. We’re still gonna miss him, you know.”

“I know.”


	32. Chapter 32

Fort growled, flicking his tail from side to side. “I could set them on fire,” he said.

“Um, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Ruby said. She had told Fort about their escapade at the store.

“You could have gotten arrested!” he protested. “I have been reading your mother’s book about the development of police and prisons in America,” he told Abigail.

“Seriously?” she asked. Her mom’s books were incredibly boring. She was pretty sure the only people who read them were the students who had to read them for her mom’s classes. And her mom complained all the time that even they didn’t do the assigned reading.

“Well, yes. She is your mother; I was curious about her. She is really quite funny; she makes your country’s history very interesting.” Abigail raised her eyebrows doubtfully.

“I just wish we could get back at them. God, I’m so tired of them getting away with everything!” Ruby said, pacing back and forth.

Abigail flipped her phone around in her hand and thought. “What if we could?”

Ruby looked up St. Mary’s Academy website. She found the e-mail addresses for the principal and Genna’s mom, the vice-principal, and the entire school board, along with several parents who were listed as volunteers at the school. She even managed to look up addresses for Genevieve’s friend’s parents. She quickly created a free e-mail account that wasn’t connected to either herself or Abigail.

“This is gonna be awesome,” Abigail said, typing quickly.

“You are evil,” Ruby said with a laugh.

“She deserves it,” Abigail said, and hit send. 

***  
A week went by, and Ruby and Abigail wondered if anyone had read their emails. “I hope she got in so much trouble,” Ruby said one day as they were walking up to the library. They were around the side, taking a short cut through an alley that led to a back door. They had found it one day by accident, and it had way less traffic than the big main entrance, and let them in right next to the reading room where they snuck downstairs to see Fort.  
“Stop!” Abigail heard someone shout behind her. She and Ruby jerked around, and for a crazy second, Abigail thought, ‘You’re not a real New Yorker until you get mugged.’ But it wasn’t a mugger. Genevieve and Kiara were at the end of they alley; they must have seen Abigail and Ruby while they were walking past. Genna yanked Kiara into the alley.

“You!” Genevieve shrieked at Abigail in a rage. “You sent that picture!” Kiara cowered behind her. “Do you know how much trouble you got me in? I got expelled! My mom and dad said I have to go to boarding school! In Pennsylvania! I’m gonna kill you!”

In a rage, she scooped a rock off the ground and ran at Abigail, her arm extended to smash her in the face with it. Abigail stood her ground, determined to fight back, when the steam vent at her feet suddenly exploded upward in a shower of dirt.

“Leave my friend alone!” Fort roared. Kiara screamed, and with a flap of his huge wings, Fort leapt into the air. Genevieve shrieked, dropping the rock, and the two of them skittered backward, Kiara falling and clambering back onto her feet before she turned and ran away flat out down the alley, leaving Genna behind.

“What? What are you?” Genna said faintly as she stumbled backward, the enormous dragon beating his wings on the air above her.

“Run!” Fort roared. “Run away and never come back!” And as Genna turned and ran, he took an enormous breath, his wings pounding against the air as he flew after her, and a jet of flame larger than he had ever made before exploded over Genna’s head.

Abigail and Ruby could hear her screaming long after she turned the corner and disappeared.

“Whoo hoo!” Ruby screamed, jumping up and down. “That was awesome!” He landed at the end of the alley, just before he would have flown out into the street. His wings stretched out to their fullest one more time, arching far over his head. He turned to them and grinned widely. Then he clicked his teeth together and blew another long jet of flame, which warmed the air all along the alleyway.

“Incredible,” Abigail said. Fortitude bounded back to them in a few huge leaps.

“I did pretty good, didn’t I?” he said proudly.

“You were amazing. You’re the best dragon ever.”


	33. Epilogue

“It’s so complicated.”

“No, it’s super easy, Mom! I’ll show you how! We want the number one train south to the South Ferry station, and that’ll take us to Battery Park. Then we get on the ferry. Now, after you slide your ticket through the ticket thing and the turnstile unlocks, walk through fast! Otherwise the people behind you will be mad. And don’t worry about the tourists—just go around them.”

True to their word, her parents had decided to tour the city for a day. They rode up the elevator to the top of the Empire State Building. They took the ferry to Ellis Island and walked around the Statue of Liberty. Phillip and Elizabeth held hands and firmly focused their eyes on Lady Liberty’s gold flame when a young couple walked by, swinging a little boy by his hands between them. Her mom had been nervous in the subway, reading the map a dozen times and sliding her card backwards through the turnstile. Abigail thought about Janice, her long braids waving down her back. She knew her mom and dad had called her and made an appointment to talk to her about James and about how to be happy together again. She remembered how Janice carried herself like a queen. “Just act like you own the place, and no one will bother you,” she told them. And with her back straight and her head up, Abigail marched down the stairs, her parents holding hands behind her.

***  
The next week, Ruby and Abigail ditched their evening art class and spent an extra hour with Fort. He curled up on the floor, and they climbed up on him and sat in the coil of his tail.  
“I found a fascinating new book,” he said, pulling it out of his stacks. “The History of Great Libraries Around the World.” He flipped through it, showing them the Library of Congress, the British Library, and the Russian State Library.

“Cool,” Ruby said. “Maybe someday you can go visit them. If you’re super careful!” Fort chuckled.

“I’ve learned my lesson. I have no desire to be in the newspaper again!”

“You’re a hero, Fort,” Abigail said. “You know that, right?”

Fort grinned self-consciously. “I simply could not allow that horrible girl to bother you any more.”

“Well, I don’t think we have to worry about that!” Ruby laughed. “She ran so fast, she might never come back!”

Abigail grinned. “Thank God for that!”

“Now there’s just one more thing to worry about,” Ruby added. 

The End

“What’s that?” Fort said.

“The first day of school. It’s tomorrow.”

“I think we’ve got it covered,” Abby said with a smile. “After all, if anybody bothers us, we’ll just have our dragon scare them away. And then he can make us turkey sandwiches on toast.”


End file.
